Book 41 - The Cycle Of Death
by GailDunn2
Summary: WARNING: MAY CONTAIN ADULT THEMES, AND SITUATIONS. Castiel's concern about his family members turns out to have been warranted. He tries to take matters into his own hands, but will that make things even worse?
1. Slipping Through My Fingers

Chapter 1 - Slipping Through My Fingers

While his family had been in the library exchanging nervous glances, Frank had gone to work on Rowena.

He hadn't honestly thought that threats and intimidation were going to work on a woman like her, anyway. The cuffs had just been a way to hold her here in the bunker, once the burning ingredients of the summoning spell had been snuffed out. No, Rowena was the kind of person who would dig her high heels in all the more if menaced, especially by a man. Frank had seen her go toe-to-toe with every kind of nasty low-life scumbag in Hell without batting a mascaraed eyelash. But even if she was trying to reform herself, which he was still skeptical about, Frank knew that Rowena was, at heart, only out for herself. She might appear to be doing favours for them gratis, but she would be looking for something from them at some point, Frank was sure. So he had decided that he was going to offer her the farm right away. No dicking around. This was far too important to him. He needed Jody back, and he would do whatever it took to make that happen. Frank would definitely owe his sister a big fat apology, after all of this was over. He'd had no idea what she had gone through when Cas has died. None.

So Frank had looked calmly down at a seething Rowena and said, "I know the secret to immortality."

When Frank and Rowena came out to the library area together, everyone else was silent. How in the hell had Gail's brother convinced the witch to help him?

They found out a moment later, and the answer astonished them. Frank had told Rowena that if she gave them the revival spell, they would take her to the cove at the beach with the black sands, in Saint Vincent. If Rowena was interested in becoming immortal, Frank had told her, all she would need to do was to swim in those waters with a guy of her choosing, do the deed, and they would both become immortal, just like Vincent and Placida had. Of course, Frank had no way of knowing that Vincent had actually managed to kill Placida, a while back. It was not the water itself that made the swimmers immortal, it was the fact that they had conceived a child there, after having done a specific voodoo ritual. And, as it was, Vincent had been able to dispatch Placida quite easily, because he was the Alpha Priest. So if Rowena actually did what Frank was telling her now, she would be no more immortal than the fish who swam in that cove.

But Rowena was intrigued by the notion. She knew that Vincent had always bragged that he was immortal, and the idea of becoming immortal by having sex in some sort of enchanted waters didn't cross Rowena's eyes one bit. If the people she was standing with now had been at some of those Solstice celebrations that Rowena had attended back in the day, or gone to a Druid ritual, they would be shocked speechless at the things that went on there. The only caveat, in Rowena's mind, was that if she intended to indulge in that ritual, she had better choose her partner wisely. Because as far as she understood it, at the end of the transaction, the man would be immortal, too.

Rowena had sized Frank up, considering whether or not he was telling her the truth. But he was Gail's brother, and Gail was Vincent's daughter, and Frank and Gail were as thick as thieves, the witch knew. So she was prepared to believe that he was. At any rate, it was worth the gamble.

"If you have a pen and paper, I'll begin," Rowena said to Sam, who grabbed one of the legal pads he always kept on the library table to make notes.

"Gail will know if you give us the wrong ingredients," Dean piped up. "She used that spell to bring me back, remember?"

Rowena eyed him, and then she looked at her daughter. Gail's heart sank into her stomach. Was Dean kidding with that? She'd done that spell several years ago, under stressful circumstances, and it was the most complex spell she'd ever seen. How the hell was she supposed to remember all the ingredients? But she returned Rowena's gaze as calmly as she could. Hopefully, the witch would believe what Dean had said.

After a moment, Rowena looked back to Sam and started to list the ingredients and their measurements. Then she paused, glancing at Gail again. "I will hold back one ingredient," the witch said. "If you remember all of them, you will know which one it is."

"Why? Why would you do that?" Frank said sharply.

Rowena eyed him coolly. "Because. Because I have been ill-used and double-dealt for centuries, by men such as yourselves. I believe you would use the expression 'screwed over'. I have been screwed over more times than you could possibly imagine. I know what you think of me. I know what you ALL think of me; that I'm an evil, selfish, self-centered bitch. And I am. But I have had to be, to ensure my own survival. Just as you have trouble trusting me, I have trouble trusting all of you. So, I will give you all of the ingredients but one. Then, when you have taken me to the cove, I will give you the final one. Unless my daughter can supply it now, of course. Can you, Gail?"

Gail sighed. "No. No, I can't. Dean was just bluffing. I don't remember."

Rowena nodded. She'd thought as much. "Thank you for being honest with me," she said.

"Bobby, can I speak to you for a minute?" Cas said. He touched Gail lightly on her arm. "Can you please stay here and assist Sam?" he asked his wife. "Let's go outside for a moment," he said to Bobby, and they popped out.

Rowena looked at the spot where the men had vanished from, her eyes narrowing a bit. What had THAT been about? Was she about to be screwed over again? Castiel was not to be trusted. Of all the men here, he was the one who would be the most likely to kill her. That was one reason why Rowena was intrigued by the possibility of becoming immortal. The only saving grace, no pun intended, was that Castiel was talking to Bobby, not one of the others. Bobby wouldn't let him kill her, she was sure.

Meanwhile, Cas was looking intently at Bobby. "Should we really be considering this?" the Angel said to God. "I know we all miss Jody, but..." He trailed off.

"What are you saying, Cas?" Bobby asked him coolly. "Put your cards on the table."

"All right, I will," Cas said. "I don't think Frank should have just arbitrarily proposed that deal. Is one man's grief reason enough to subject the world to all of the damage that Rowena could cause in the future? I am extremely skeptical of her claim that she means us no harm. So far, the only deterrent, the only check on her behaviour, is the threat that we can kill her, or that she could die by other means. What if that threat were to be removed? If she cannot die, she is liable to do anything. Anything at all. Who would stop her, then?"

Bobby's forehead wrinkled. "Don't you think you're being just a bit melodramatic, Cas? What do you expect her to DO? As far as I can tell, she hasn't done anything, to anybody. She admitted that so-called teddy bear hex bag was harmless. And besides, I don't know if I believe this 'immortal' bullcrap, anyway. I'll believe it when I see it."

Cas was agitated. "Are you taking up for her because of your past relationship?"

"No, Cas, of course not," Bobby said, and his tone was icy now. "Any more than you're lobbying to kill her, because of your relationship with Gail." He sighed. "Look, Cas, I know where you're coming from. I really do. But it's pretty much a done deal, now. If we renege, we'll lose our only chance to get Jody back. And, if we screw Rowena over, she'll probably go full dark side. She's obviously trying to turn over a new leaf, Cas. I think we should give her the opportunity to do that."

"And what if SHE screws US over, instead? What then?" Cas demanded.

"She's not gonna do that," God said. "I know her, and I believe she's being sincere."

Cas's lips pressed tightly together. He completely disagreed. And, even if by some miracle Rowena fulfilled her end of the deal without incident, he didn't like the way she was looking at Gail. Every time the subject came up, Rowena seemed to be using centuries of male oppression, either real or perceived, to excuse every bad thing she had ever done. And then, the witch would look at her daughter, and appeal to Gail's feminist sensibilities. Cas wondered if anything that Rowena had been saying was influencing his wife. Gail had come down firmly in Frank's corner earlier, though, so at least there was that. Cas would expect no less from Gail, but still, the notion troubled him. The longer that they spent with Rowena, the more opportunity she would have to make inroads.

But for now, God had spoken, and God had the ultimate say. Still, that didn't mean that Cas was prepared to kowtow to Bobby, either. "I'm going to our house to get our Angel blades," he told Bobby. "Please tell Gail I'll be back in a moment."

"What do you want with those?" Bobby inquired warily. Actually, he'd been a little surprised that Cas didn't already have his on him. They'd been relieved to discover that Cas was unarmed when he and Gabriel had been acting like little boys under the spell of that mystery potion. "Playing swords", as Gail had called it. That blade was like a second skin to Cas, Bobby knew. But he and Gail had been attending a family barbecue, so Bobby supposed that Cas had figured it was OK to leave the weaponry at home.

Cas was incredulous at Bobby's question. Really? "If we intend to engage in this folly, I refuse to be unprepared," he said, with an edge to his voice. "How do we know that Vincent won't be there? How do we know that Rowena hasn't been lying to us, this whole time? Maybe she's still in league with Raguel, and only wants us to THINK she's not."

"That's ridiculous," Bobby snapped. "Why would she give you a way of locating Raguel if she was conspiring with him?"

"To convince us that she was not," Cas insisted. "After all, there's really no harm caused to him in our knowing where he is at the moment, if we can't kill him. That would be a brilliant strategic move. In fact, who is to say that she did not administer that potion to us in the first place, knowing that we would have to call her for the antidote? This whole thing could have been one big setup. It's what I would have done."

Bobby was gazing at Cas now, and he was not happy. "Ya know, sometimes I'm not sure if I'm talking to you, or Crowley," he growled. "I don't know what they did to you in Heaven before I got there, but whatever it was, they sure didn't do you any favours. Or me, either. But listen up, because I'm only gonna say this once: Reviving Jody is not 'folly'. She's family. Just like Sam, or Dean, or Frank, or Gail...or you. If you had seen the way Gail tore around here looking for that damn spell book, when you were dead..." Bobby's throat caught for a moment. "She even made me send her to Hell, because she was so desperate to get you back. She never gave up on you. So why shouldn't Frank have the chance to get his wife back, if he can? Unless you think you're better than him, somehow." There was silence for a beat, as Cas digested that. "And another thing," Bobby continued. "Just because you think that everybody is always conspiring, that doesn't mean that they are. Did you go to Angel Academy under Machiavelli, or something? I thought that being an Angel involved compassion, and mercy. I know you have those qualities, Cas. I've seen you use them. Maybe you need to dust those off."

Cas stood still, in his best soldier stance, his face expressionless. But his mind was racing now. What Bobby had said about Gail had hurt him deeply. Any time Cas thought about the agony she must have gone through, he felt agonized, too. Bobby was right, at least in that regard, and Cas knew it. Of course he was. Frank loved Jody. She was his wife; his life partner. His person. Who would Cas be to tell Frank he shouldn't do anything he had to, to get Jody back? Gail had, for Cas. He wasn't better than Frank. He wasn't better than anybody.

But, try as he might, Cas couldn't seem to let go of the notion that they were being played, somehow. Certainly he was capable of compassion, and mercy. But those were privileges that needed to be earned. They only had Rowena's word that the hex bag in that teddy bear had merely contained potpourri. They only had her word for a lot of things. Bobby was letting his past association with Rowena cloud his judgement. Cas was sure of it.

"I'll be right back," Cas said tersely, and he vanished.

Bobby stood there for a moment, shaking his head slowly. Cas. When the Almighty Lord had made Castiel, He had sure thrown all His leftover pantry ingredients in the stew. The current God let out a frustrated breath. He guessed there would be no harm in arming themselves, just on the off chance that they ran into any trouble. Bobby should be able to handle pretty much everything by himself, but it didn't hurt to be prepared, either. Cas was right about that part, at least.

So Bobby popped back into the bunker and told them where Cas had gone and why, and he told Dean that the elder Winchester might as well go to the weapons room and get a few things.

Gabriel glanced at Liz. This was getting pretty real, and Liz wasn't a fighter. "Uhh...I think I'd better take you home," he said to her. Then he looked at Bobby. "Do you want me to come back?"

"Nahhh. We've got this," Bobby told him.

"Tell Alfalfa we'll see him later," Gabe quipped, and then he winked himself and Liz out.

Dean took off down the hall towards the weapons room as Cas popped back in, handing Gail's blade to her wordlessly. Rowena looked at Bobby, who gave her a half-shrug. "If we're going into Vincent's territory, they need to have protection," he told her.

Sam was looking at the ingredients for the spell. He and Gail had shopped together for many of these ingredients, the ones that he and Dean hadn't already had on hand. It looked about right to him. He tore the sheet off the pad and offered it to Bobby. Bobby gave it a cursory glance, then folded it and stashed it in his shirt pocket.

Dean was standing at the weapons cabinet now, and his brow was furrowed. They hadn't done a real inventory for a while so he couldn't really tell, but something didn't look right to him. He stood there puzzling for a minute. Then, it dawned on him: there was an Angel blade missing. He grabbed an assortment of weapons, shoving them into various pockets, and then he returned to the library. He handed weapons to Sam and Frank, and then he glanced quickly at Bobby. Yeah, no. Dean had better not offer God any weapons, or the first person to receive the smiting would be Dean.

"Sammy," Dean said under his breath, nudging his brother. "How many Angel blades are we supposed to have in the cabinet?"

Sam thought for a second. "Seven," he replied. "We had a few more, but Cas took them back up to Heaven, remember?"

"Well, we're missing one, then," Dean said, frowning.

The brothers turned around to look at Rowena, and she smiled slyly, spreading her arms wide. "As you can see, I have no pockets. But you're welcome to check, if you like."

"OK; we'll worry about that later," Bobby said authoritatively. "Let's get this done."

He waved his hands, and suddenly they were standing on the beach on the island of Saint Vincent, at the cove where they had taken the pirate chest. And the instant they arrived, Rowena flung her arms out towards the group and said, "Dulcio non extrica!"

"What the hell, Ro?" Bobby said angrily. "What was that?"

"A spell to render you all immobile," the witch replied. "Not to worry; it won't harm anyone. In fact, I don't expect that it will work on you and the Angels for very long. But it should be long enough for me to do what I need to do."

"What do you mean?!" Bobby exclaimed. "What do you need to do?"

But Rowena didn't reply, because she was too busy lifting her long skirt up to her thigh. She pulled out a hex bag. "Just as you lot have to be prepared, so must I," she said tartly. She threw the bag down on the sand, and by the time the smoke had cleared, she was gone.

Bobby was struggling to extricate himself, and because he was the most powerful of the Angels, he was already able to move a bit. And, because he was God, he could feel Cas's glare boring into him from behind. "Stop looking at me like that, Cas," he said irascibly, trying to move.

Cas had indeed been glaring at him. Hadn't he just warned Bobby about this very thing? As Bobby was finally able to stagger a few steps and turn his body around to look at the others, Cas was starting to break free of the spell. So was Gail, but she felt as if she was trying to walk in a hurricane. Frank, Sam and Dean were still rendered completely immobile, of course.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed. "All that talk about us screwing her over, and that's what she was planning to do to US, all along!"

Cas took a halting step towards Bobby, but before the Angel could say anything, Bobby held up his hand. "Save it, Cas. If I hear one 'I told you so', I'm gonna start smiting people, and you're gonna be the first." Bobby was livid. He felt like Rowena had screwed him personally. And not in the good way, like the old days. Now he looked like a great big idjit, all because he had trusted her.

"Why did she have us bring her down here, if she wasn't going to - " Sam said, but Frank interrupted him. "Can we do the spell, Sam?" Gail's brother asked their friend. "I saw you looking at the ingredients, and I saw your eyes do that thing."

"Thing? What thing?" the younger Winchester asked, puzzled.

"That thing they do, when you know something," Frank replied. "Why do you think you always get knocked out first, when we play poker? You have a 'tell'."

"Cool," Dean remarked, smirking at his brother. "Good to know."

Sam sighed. "The good news is that I remembered how many ingredients were in that spell. I even remember what most of them were. But the bad news is, I'm pretty sure she left at least one off the list, if not two or three. Trouble is, I don't remember exactly what they are."

Great, Frank thought. Just great. Here they were, with an incomplete spell, a missing witch, and egg on their faces. Bobby was shaking his arms and legs out now, trying to get his motion all the way back. Cas and Gail were starting to recover, too. But the human men were all still as motionless as statues. Terrific.

"I hate redheads," Frank grumbled.

Rowena knew that they were going to be very angry with her, but she couldn't worry about that right now. She had to look out after herself. She just had to. If she didn't, who else would? Frank, the former sidekick of her son's, when they had been in Hell? Not too bloody likely. Or Castiel, who looked at Rowena with murder in his eyes any time she even batted an eyelash in her daughter's direction? Or maybe the Winchesters, who had made it their life's work to destroy her kind? No. None of those men gave a flying fig about a woman like Rowena, or what she'd had to do to survive. She had genuinely been contemplating change, but if it came down to her or them, and Rowena was fairly convinced it would at some point, she knew which outcome she would prefer.

When they had first arrived here, she had felt it: a powerful vibration, almost like an invisible pulse of light, that indicated a strong source of magic. They had said that these islands were Vincent's territory, but even if Rowena hadn't known that, she would still have been able to sense it. She moved quickly and quietly through the jungle, like a tigress stalking prey. Finally, she came upon a clearing. There was evidence of a recent fire here, as well as some blankets on the sand floor, as if a group of people had bedded down here for the night.

There was no one here now, though...or, was there? Rowena lifted her head as a tall black man approached her quietly. He was looking at her calmly, as if he wasn't at all surprised to see a diminutive, red-haired white woman in a long gown here in the jungle. He bent down and began to gather up the blankets, and Rowena couldn't help but notice the muscles rippling in his arms as he did so. This man reminded her of John, her Demon lover from way back when she'd been living in Fergus's lair. John had had the same kind of physique as this man. He was looking at her again.

"And who might you be, then?" Rowena said softly.

"I am Barnabas," the man said, as she drew nearer to him. "And, you are...?"

"About to make you a very lucky man," Rowena purred. Her hand caressed his bicep. Hard, and firm. Just the way she liked them.

Barnabas was no fool. He dropped the blankets on the sand.

The humans were still immobilized. Whatever Bobby, Cas or Gail tried, Frank, Sam and Dean had been unable to budge an inch. They were all beyond frustrated at this point.

Gail was thinking furiously. "What did she say? 'Dulcio non...'"

"...'Extrica'," Sam finished for her. He looked at her speculatively. "Why?"

"I'm just wondering if the solution to the spell's effect might be in the verbiage," she mused. "She said that she didn't expect the spell to hold us for long. Hey, Sam, was what she said Latin?"

"I don't think it was, not exactly, but its origin could be," he said, looking thoughtful. He flashed her a brief grin. "It sounded like a spell from one of those wizard books."

Gail was thinking about that, too. She remembered reading somewhere that the author of those books had created Latin-sounding words for the spells she had written about, words that usually gave a pretty good indication of what the spell was intended to do. "'Extrica'. Extricate," she said aloud, and then she smiled. "Hey, Dean? Do you want to help us out, here? What do you think the middle word means?"

"'Non'?" he said, scowling. "You're lucky I can't move right now, or I'd be giving you the one-finger salute."

"'Dulcio'," Cas said. "Dulcimer? Dulcet?"

"Dulcet," Gail said, nodding. "That's got to be it. Soft; soothing." She looked at the human men. "Just for the hell of it, try speaking to us in calm, gentle voices. You know, like a late-night radio DJ."

Frank looked at her incredulously. "You've gotta be kidding me with that."

She gave her brother a half-shrug. "Hey, I'm just trying to come up with ideas, here. If it doesn't work, you're no worse off, are you?"

The men sighed. They guessed she was right.

"This is really stupid," Dean said, but his voice was calm and gentle now, like he was trying to coax a cat out of a tree. Not that he would know anything about that. If Dean wanted to get a cat out of a tree, he would just shake the damn tree.

"I don't necessarily agree, Dean," Sam said in the mellifluous voice he used when he was talking to baby Brian. He could feel his body quivering a little now. "Try it, you guys," he added, maintaining his gentle tone. "I'm pretty sure it's working."

Sam stumbled a little as the spell broke, and Bobby reached out to steady him. "See?" the younger Winchester said with a smile. "It worked."

Frank was trying to calm down enough to use a gentle voice, but it was difficult. That damn witch. She had double-crossed them. No; him. He probably shouldn't have tried to make the kind of deal that he had attempted to make, but it had seemed so clear to him at the time. He needed Jody back, and Rowena knew how to do that. And he'd offered her something of real value, in return. It should have been a win-win.

Dean was starting to stir now, and a couple of moments later, he too was free of the spell. Now Frank was the only one who was still immobile, and he was mad as hell about it. But it was impossible to speak in dulcet tones when you were that angry, so he remained rooted to the spot.

"Tell you what," Dean razzed Frank. "We'll come visit you every now and then, and water and prune you. Maybe you'll start to grow coconuts, after a few years."

"As soon as I can move, I'm kicking your ass," Frank growled.

Suddenly, Rowena and Barnabas emerged from the jungle. They exchanged glances, and then Vincent's lieutenant of voodoo waved his arms and shouted, "Escal nunc wadem fam!" Then he grabbed Rowena's hand. "What was that?" she asked him. "What did you do?"

"Don't concern yourself with that," he said to her. "We'll have to hurry, now. The properties of the water in the cove won't last much longer. I poured the last drops of Placida's blood into it last night, following the ritual. I was planning to take Blaise here, to conceive a child to take Vincent's place as our leader. Vincent killed Placida, for no reason at all. He'll be the cause of all of our destruction, if we don't stop him. But he took Blaise away after the ritual. I don't know where. You said you want to be immortal? Fine. If you and I can conceive the child here and now, it might just be powerful enough to take over."

Rowena's head was spinning. Wait: what? Conceive a child? She hadn't signed on for anything like that. She'd been under the impression that all she and Barnabas were going to do was have a little knee-trembler here in the waters of the cove. But motherhood? Please. Been there, done that. She may be centuries old, but Rowena still cared about maintaining her figure.

And now, Sam and Dean were falling to their knees, choking. "What was that spell?" she asked Barnabas again.

He still had her by the hand, and he was pulling her towards the beach. "The closer we get to the water, the closer to death they will all get," Barnabas said, matter-of-factly. Now Frank was retching. "Even the Angels," the voodoo cultist continued. On cue, Gail fell to the sand, and so did Cas. Rowena was struggling, trying to free herself from Barnabas's grasp, but he was too strong. They had reached the sands of the beach now, where the group of humans and Angels were. Everyone was too sick now to confront them, including Frank. He was still rooted to the spot, and he was still choking.

Barnabas looked calmly at Bobby. "Even God," he remarked. He touched Bobby on the forehead, and blood started to trickle from Bobby's mouth and nose.

"Come, my beautiful witch," Barnabas said, turning his back to Bobby and grabbing Rowena by her upper arm. "Let us make the child. See how the water sparkles?"

Rowena's eyes were wide. The water WAS sparkling. Iridescent, like the bubbles in a glass of champagne. It was gorgeous. She could feel herself being drawn to it, and now she could picture Barnabas taking his shirt off, and lifting her dress with one hand, caressing her thigh...

Barnabas's grip loosened on Rowena's arm, and she blinked rapidly. Was the man trying to put a spell on her? On HER? The very idea! The witch turned in Barnabas's direction, preparing to rake her fingernails down his face, but Barnabas's face was glowing. Why was it glowing?

Bobby had his hand on the man's bald head, that was why, and he was smiting the life out of him. Bobby was still bleeding from his nose and mouth, and now his eyes were leaking blood, too. But he didn't care. Bobby was boiling mad. Who the hell did this guy think he was, dragging Rowena around like a caveman, thinking he was gonna kill God? And, maybe he even could. But if Bobby was going down, he was gonna take this voodoo bastard with him.

Barnabas's eyes glowed yellow, then orange, then red, and then they became blacked-out husks. He screamed in agony, but Bobby kept his hand on the man's head until Barnabas fell to his knees on the sand. And as he fell, the Angels started to rise. Because as Barnabas was dying, his spell over the God Squad was waning.

"Go to the water," Barnabas croaked to Rowena. "If you can get one of these men into the water with you before the enchantment is gone, you can still..." He fell face-forward onto the sand, dead.

Cas helped Gail up onto her feet, and now the Winchesters and Frank had stopped coughing and retching. Frank was still immobile, but at least he wasn't choking to death any more.

Rowena was looking at the water again. It was still sparkling, but the sparkle seemed to be fading. There wasn't much time left. She looked around at the men. Bobby and Castiel were Angels, so they were out of the running. Besides, they were already eternal beings, by definition. That left Frank, who she couldn't stand, and the Winchester brothers, who liked to kill witches. Great. Eeny, meenie...

Rowena approached Dean. Technically, she'd already had Sam, in Egypt. He just hadn't known it. And he'd been very good. But Dean Winchester had a reputation for being a real ladies' man, and he wasn't exactly hard to look at.

"How would you like to be immortal, dearie?" she said to Dean now, running her hands lightly along his shoulders and arms. "Think of all those wide-eyed, innocent people you could save from the nasty monsters. I could give you that child you've always wanted."

Dean laughed derisively. "Not a chance, lady. Bite me."

She traced his Adam's apple with a long red fingernail. "I could do that too, if you like that sort of thing," she said, leaning in closer to him. "You're passing up a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, you know." She stretched up on her toes, speaking into his ear. "I've had centuries of experience, pleasing a man. You would not believe the things I could do to you, things you never dreamed of..."

"I'll bet you I HAVE," Dean said, raising an eyebrow to her. "But I can guarantee you, even though my dreams are Triple-X, you've never been in any of them."

Rowena glanced nervously at the water. The sparkle was almost gone. It had to be now, or it was going to be never. She pulled Dean to her by grabbing the waistband of his jeans. Then she reached up and nicked his cheek with her fingernail, drawing a couple of drops of blood. "You leave me no choice," she said softly. "Modica vogo." Then she licked a drop of the blood running down Dean's face and pulled his head toward hers, kissing him on the mouth. As soon as the spell began to take effect, Dean wrapped his arms around her, kissing her deeply. Rowena had suddenly become Nicole, and they were in Nicole's bedroom. His girlfriend was unzipping his pants as Dean kissed her hungrily.

"Dean! What are you doing?" Sam asked his brother, alarmed. But it was as if he was speaking from far, far away.

"Don't listen to him, Dean," Nicole said. "He's just trying to spoil our fun."

Dean smiled. "Yeah, Sammy can be like that, sometimes," he said, and now, his hand was on Rowena's breast. "He needs to get a life."

Bobby let out a frustrated breath. He waved his hand, but Dean was still kissing Rowena. "We have to hurry," the witch said to her would-be lover. "The water's magic is almost gone." She took Dean's hand.

BONK! Not knowing what else to do, Bobby had conjured up a coconut, and then pegged it at Dean's head. Hard. He could still throw the old fastball, Bobby thought proudly. There might have been a little celestial "oomph" on that one, for a couple of different reasons, but still...probably about eighty-something on the radar gun.

Dean shook his head vigorously, twice, and then he looked down at Rowena. She reached for him again, but he pushed her away. Yikes. What the hell had she almost made him do?

He'd pushed her harder than he'd intended, and Rowena went stumbling backwards into Frank. He had been making himself speak softly, picturing bedtime with Angela, when she would ask him for hugs and kisses. And that was doing the trick, slowly but surely. Frank's feet were still rooted to the spot, but at least he could move his upper body now.

So when Rowena stumbled into him, Frank did the only logical thing he could think of: he seized her with one hand, got out the Demon knife he had in his pocket, and stabbed her in the heart with it, ramming the blade into her chest as hard and as far as he could. "Potpourri, my ass," he said contemptuously, letting go of her.

Rowena's eyes were wide as saucers. She looked down at the knife protruding from her chest, and as soon as she did, she felt the pain. She had not seen this coming. Bobby rushed over there, and he caught her in his arms as she fell towards the ground.

As soon as Bobby touched her, he knew that it was already too late. But he put his hand on her chest anyway, and a soft white glow came out.

Rowena took his hand in both of hers. "Don't bother, Bobby," she said, coughing blood out of her mouth. "Save your strength. You're going to need it." She gave his hand a quick kiss. "It's all right. You can let me go." She coughed weakly, once more. "I always loved you, Bobby. I never meant to hurt you," she told him. "Now go, and take care of your family."

Her eyes closed, and Bobby slowly lowered her to the sand. Then he stood, looking at his companions. They were all standing there, stunned. It had all happened so fast. Even Frank himself was stunned. He looked uneasily at Bobby, the blade still in his hand, dripping with Rowena's blood.

Bobby waved his hand and they all vanished, leaving Barnabas and Rowena's bodies laying on the beach.

They reappeared in the bunker, and as soon as they did, Bobby waved his hand again, and a few bottles from the bar were sitting on the library table, along with some mix and glasses.

Bobby looked at Frank. "Go get cleaned up," he said to Gail's brother. "We're gonna have a little conversation. All of us." Then he sat down wearily, waving his hand over himself to clean Rowena's blood off of his clothes and hands. Frank stood there for a minute. If Bobby could do that for himself, why didn't he just...?

Dean grabbed Frank by the arm. "Go," he said softly, propelling his friend towards the hallway.

Bobby poured himself a drink. He just sat there for a moment, holding it. Then he knocked it back. "Ya might as well all sit down," he said to everyone, without looking up at them. "Have a drink. We have to wait till he gets back, anyway."

Sam, Dean and Cas pulled out their usual chairs at the table. Cas pulled Gail's out for her first, of course, and she sank down slowly into it. She was stunned, too.

"Have a drink, dear," Bobby said in a gruff but surprisingly tender voice. "There's some ginger ale there for you."

Gail looked at Bobby. God or not, he was looking like he was about a hundred years old, right now. All of them could feel however they each felt about Rowena, and right now Gail wasn't even sure how she was feeling about her erstwhile mother, herself. But Bobby and Rowena had been in an intimate relationship at certain points over the years, hadn't they? And even though his family had found that distasteful, maybe they should all take a moment to realize that her death would be hard on Bobby, regardless of whether she had deserved it, or not.

Frank came back out from the hallway, and he pulled out a chair beside his sister. He grabbed a bottle and a glass, and poured himself a generous shot.

"I'll let everybody have their say if they want it, but I just wanted to say something, first," Bobby said in a subdued tone. "I know that Rowena wasn't a saint, and I hafta take ownership of my own feelings about her. Those are my business, not any of yours. But I thought we should clear the air, here." He paused for a moment, pouring himself another drink. Then, he sighed. "Look, I don't know if she was trying to change for the better. I guess only she knows that. And, yeah, she didn't exactly fill me with confidence, doing what she did. She was right, though: there were obviously trust issues, on both sides. I wish I knew for sure if she was sincere, but I don't. So, even though a part of me loved her and always will, I'm not gonna come down on you for doing what you did." He was looking at Frank now. "Having said that, I'm gonna mourn her for a while, and if anybody - " he looked at Cas now " - gives me any guff about that, I'm gonna punch that guy, right in the face."

Frank let out a breath. "I'm not going to give you a hard time about that, Bobby. I've just had some first-hand experience on what it's like to lose somebody you've had that kind of relationship with. I can't apologize for doing what I did, but I will tell you that I understand."

"How are you doing, dear?" Bobby said to Gail now. She looked at him, startled. "Me?"

"Sure," Bobby replied. "However strange the history between you two, she was your mother, wasn't she?"

Gail was startled again. Oh, so THAT was why Bobby was looking at her the way he was looking at her. But, he didn't need to worry; she felt nothing about Rowena's death. Nothing.

"I'm gonna go back up to Heaven," Bobby said wearily. "I'll see you all later." He vanished.

They were all silent for a moment, and then Dean said, "Hopefully, he's not watching us right now, because I need to do something." He raised his glass, looking at Frank. "Congrats. Attaboy, Frank. Ding-dong, the witch is dead."

Frank raised his glass in response, but he was frowning. "And she took the damn spell with her to her grave," he said, sighing. "And I only have myself to blame." Suddenly, tears blurred his eyes. "I'm sorry, you guys. I went off half-cocked, with no clear plan, and I put you all in danger."

"You know what that makes you?" Sam said, pouring himself a drink now, too.

"No, what?" Frank asked curiously.

"An official Winchester," Sam quipped, raising his glass to Frank.

Now Frank did smile, but it was a sad smile. "You know, nobody ever tells you," he said quietly. "Nobody ever tells you how damn much it's going to hurt." He touched Gail on the arm. "I never understood before, but now, I do. I owe you and Cas an apology. I feel like somebody just ripped open my chest, grabbed my heart, backed over it with a truck, and then did it all over again. My life is so empty now. Job, house, kids...none of it means anything without Jody. I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do with myself. I'm just going through the motions right now. I just thought, if I could get her back, things could be the way they used to be, you know? Before everything went to shit."

They were all silent. Gail took her brother's hand in hers, and now, tears were running down her cheeks. She understood very well the kind of pain Frank was feeling. There was no worse hurt in the world, in her opinion, than losing your spouse. The love of your life.

Cas was thoughtful. He was thinking about that very same thing. He didn't blame Frank for anything. Sam had been trying to be lighthearted, but he had been quite right: all of them here in this room had made rash decisions like that before, based purely on emotions. Every single one of them. But Cas had also thought that Frank's killing of Rowena had been warranted, and that it had been long overdue. He was glad that Bobby hadn't been too angry with Frank, because if he had been, Cas had been ready to step in, and defend Gail's brother's decision. Whatever she may have said about how ill-treated she had been over the centuries, the bottom line was that Rowena had used her last few minutes on this Earth trying to feather her own nest. She had planned to take a lieutenant of Vincent's voodoo cult to the waters of the cove to make some kind of Unholy covenant, and then, when Bobby had killed the man, she had almost succeeded in using Dean as a substitute. How on earth could she have expected them to believe that she had been contemplating becoming another kind of person when she had been behaving that way? No. They were well rid of her.

"OK, that's it. That's enough self-pity," Frank said, knuckling back the tears. He finished his drink, and then stood. "I'd better get home. See how much food and beer I have to stock up on, now that those human garbage disposals are back. Assuming they stick around, of course." He looked at the Angels. "So, who wants to take me home? Alfalfa, or Darla? Oh, and tell the other Little Rascal that your video should be on YouTube, just as soon as I get those boys on the case."

"I'd like to take you home, Frank," Cas offered. He stood from his chair, looking down at Gail. "Have another drink, my love," he said to her. "I'll be right back."

Then Cas took Frank by the arm and winked him out of the bunker, and Gail's eyes narrowed. "Have another drink? I'll be right back?" Then, she sighed. This was getting ridiculous. She couldn't be suspicious of her own husband all the time. She had finally gotten around to asking Cas about the Prophecies Gabriel had been referring to, and Cas had confessed that Laurel had given him a letter that Chuck had written, right before Paul and Linda's wedding. In it, the Prophet stated that he had foreseen his own death, and that Raguel had taken Chuck's Grace and given it to Patricia. Gail had been so shocked by the revelation that she hadn't questioned him any further. Which, of course, had been the whole idea. But as Gail shrugged and asked Sam to pour her another one, she had decided to give Cas the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he just wanted to assure Frank that Bobby wasn't going to hold a grudge. Or maybe Cas just wanted to have a bit of a heart-to-heart with her brother about Jody. The two men were very close, and there was no one who was more tender-hearted about love than Cas. No one. She should be happy that her husband cared so much about her brother. No wonder she loved Cas so much.

Cas did love Frank, and his heart was aching for Gail's brother. But he did have a bit of a hidden agenda in wanting to take Frank home, without Gail being present. The trouble was, Frank's brother-in-law was unable to articulate exactly what he was afraid of.

"So, you have decided to send Angela to school in the fall?" Cas said to Frank, once he had delivered Gail's brother back to the rear patio of the house. The boys weren't there. They had likely gone inside to watch TV, eat, or go to bed.

Frank started picking up cups and paper plates from the picnic table. A lot of times Rob and Eric would have already taken care of that kind of stuff for him. But they had just gotten home from a Hunting trip, and he knew how that kind of thing could take it out of you, both physically and mentally. Frank had practically pushed those guys out the door a few days after Jody's funeral, urging them to get out there and live their lives. So he could hardly bitch that they hadn't done a little light housekeeping the instant they'd come back, could he? As it was, now that they were back, Frank was going to have that little chat with them about getting their own place.

"Yeah, Cas," Frank confirmed. "Yeah. Angela needs to start meeting kids her own age, and making friends."

Cas nodded. He supposed that was true enough. Still, he lingered, as Frank continued to pick up the garbage. Finally, Cas's brother-in-law looked up at him in exasperation. "What?"

"Do me a favour, Frank," Cas said quietly. "Please do your best to make sure that Angela and the boys are safe."

"Do you know something, Cas? What do you know?" Frank said suspiciously. This wasn't his first rodeo with Cas. Like Gail, Frank had learned that her husband wasn't always the most transparent of individuals when it came to doling out bad news.

"Nothing specific, I promise you," Cas said uncomfortably. "Believe me, if there was a specific threat, I would act upon it. I just know..." He trailed off. What DID he know? That the End was coming? That the Lord God was preparing to rain down death and destruction? That Cas and his family were on the brink of suffering loss after loss after loss, until the Father finally decided that enough was, blessedly, enough? No, of course he wouldn't say that to Frank, or to anyone. Not even to Gail, although Cas thought that she was starting to get an inkling. God had never allowed any of them except for Castiel to retain any memories of anything that had happened before, thereby making the pain feel fresh and new, once the cycle ran out and it started all over again. Was that a worse feeling, Cas had always wondered, than the feeling of being the lone voice, crying out in the wilderness? He had always been the one who remembered everything. The love and loyalty, of course, but mostly, the pain and suffering. Within a month or two of Lance and Guinevere's executions, Arthur had gone on to have all of the Knights who had taken up for the couple tortured, and then put to death. Sam had not even been allowed to survive the boat crossing to the New World. And perhaps, in a weird way, that was the most merciful thing of all. After John and Priscilla were put to death on trumped-up charges of witchcraft, Brother Dean and his wife and children had been rounded up, charged, and executed, all within a number of days afterwards. There had been no defense lawyers and no long, drawn-out appeals process back in those days. Verdicts had been decisive, and executions had been brutal. But not always quick. Cas and Dean had both been pressed to death back then, and that was why Dean still suffered inexplicable pains in his chest from time to time that he nervously joked were signs of an impending heart attack.

No, Cas couldn't tell Frank that the signs abounded that this particular cycle was going to end with a number of deaths, and that it was going to feel like the slowest and most painful of executions this time, because Castiel had allowed himself to fall in love with all of these people. Quinn, Chuck, Jody...maybe even Nicole's grandfather, because that death had hurt Nicole, and she was part of Castiel's family. And now, Rowena, because her death had hurt Bobby. One could even argue that the beginning of the end had started when Vincent had pressed that button, back at the compound.

"Never mind, Frank. It's just me, being a worrier," Cas said now. "You know what I'm like. I'd better say goodnight, now. But remember, Gail and I are only a phone call away, if you need us."

"I know that, Cas," Frank said. He put the stack of paper plates down on one end of the picnic table and walked around it to the place where Cas was still standing.

Frank put his hand on Cas's shoulder. "Look, Buddy, I know you. I know you're worried about me, and I appreciate it. And, yeah, I'm depressed as hell right now. But I'll work through it, Cas. Because I have to. I've got Angela to take care of, and even though the boys have one foot out the door, they look up to me, for some reason. So, don't worry. I'm not gonna be the poster boy for self-pity, here. I'm gonna get up every day and go about my business, despite this giant hole in my heart. And you're gonna help me do that. You, and Gail, and those Winchester guys, and Barry and Tommy, and Bobby, even though he's kind of mad at me right now, and Gabriel and Liz, and all the Wacky Winged bunch of characters. Because that's what family does. They support each other. And, hey, try not to worry too much. Leave that to those of us who are parents. Trust me, I do enough worrying for the both of us. Now, come on: let's hug it out."

Frank opened up his arms and Cas walked into the embrace, as if Frank was the father and Cas was the child, seeking reassurance that everything would be all right. But everything was not going to be all right, because Frank wasn't Castiel's Father, God was. And, God was God. His Word was the Word, and when the Almighty Father decided that you needed to do penance, you simply bowed your head and waited for the lash.

And now Cas was crying, because his family were good people, who didn't deserve what was happening to them. His Will be done, but that didn't mean that Cas had to like it.

"Come on, Buddy, get it together," Frank said, patting Cas on the back. "I know a hug from me is an overwhelming experience, but let's not get too carried away. Imagine what Dean would say, if he could see us now."

Cas half-sobbed and half-laughed, and then he pulled out of the embrace, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry, Frank, I just..." he started to say, and Frank nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You love me. And, yeah, OK: I love you, too. Now, that's it. Let us never speak of this again. Geez, in a minute Gail's gonna show up, and then we're going to have to explain why we're standing here practically making out. And you know what my sister's like, when she gets mad. You'll be on your own, there," Frank joked.

The two men smiled at each other for a minute. "Goodnight, Frank," Cas said softly.

"Good-" Frank started to say, but his brother-in-law was already gone. Cas. He shook his head, then went back to cleaning up.

A huge gust of wind came along, rippling the waters of the cove. They rushed onto the beach, like the pounding tide waters that surfers sometimes ride. And with the mysterious change in the tidal patterns at that particular beach, two separate things happened.

A rush of water formed a big wall that strangely resembled a gigantic hand, and it washed up to Barnabas's body, pushing it higher up on the beach, above the line of the tide. And with the water came a school of piranhas, even though none had ever been recorded in this particular area of the Caribbean. The fish started to go to work on Barnabas's flesh, and even though Vincent would have preferred that his lieutenant still be alive when this was happening, it was still satisfying. Had Barnabas really thought that Vincent didn't know about his plan to impregnate Blaise, and try to use that child to usurp Vincent and his own child? That was why Vincent had taken Blaise away, after the ritual. It had seemed as if Barnabas had had to abandon his plan, but when Rowena and her unlikely group had shown up so unexpectedly, Vincent had been watching very carefully. It had appeared for a split second as if they were all allies. But then, when Rowena had immobilized them and taken off on her own, Vincent had decided to wait and see what she intended to do. And he had to hand it to her when she had come upon Barnabas, and decided to seize the moment. How could he fault her for that? Vincent would have done exactly the same thing, if he had been in her high-heeled shoes. No, the thing that had concerned Vincent about that whole thing was the fact that the witch had shown up with the God Squad in the first place, and that she'd obviously known about the water in the cove, and its potential properties. He'd thought about that, and the only conclusion he could reach was that Rowena had something of great value to offer, something that group would want badly enough to warrant their willingness to offer her immortality, in order to obtain it.

Could Rowena have the Books, or know where they were?

Vincent sent another wave crashing onto the beach, and this one seized Rowena's diminutive body and washed her into the cove, where she floated face down for a minute or so. Was it too late?

Suddenly, Rowena gasped for air, and in doing so, she took a couple of inadvertent gulps of the water in the cove. The magic was almost gone, but it was enough. She was able to get on her hands and knees, and then she stood slowly, looking down at herself. Her dress was sodden and bloody, but as she touched her chest, Rowena realized that the knife wound had been completely healed. She took an experimental breath, then another, deeper one. No bleeding, and no pain. She sloshed up to the beach and looked over at the piranhas stripping the flesh off of Barnabas's body. Rowena had no idea if those fish were indigenous to the area or not, but she could sense Vincent's hand in this. In all of it.

Rowena smiled. "Thank you, Vincent. I suppose I may owe you a favour, now. We'll talk, sometime."

She waved a hand over herself. "Tiar wigem," she said, and suddenly, her hair and gown were dry, the bloodstains were gone, and she was perfectly made up again. It was a good thing that hex bags still worked when soaked wet. She still had a couple tucked into her garter belt, way up on her thigh, strictly for emergencies. But no one was going to get their hands on those unless she wanted them to. She spared one more glance at the unfortunate Barnabas. That had been a real shame, in a way. It had been a bit of a dry spell for Rowena lately. No pun intended. Of course, she could seduce any man at any time, if she really wanted to. But they all came with so much baggage, and sooner or later, they all wanted to be on top. And not in the good way.

Rowena smiled at the humorous thought. She shook the sand off the bottom of her gown, stood up straight, and walked off the beach, into the jungle.


	2. One Man In My Heart

Chapter 2 - One Man In My Heart

"So, what did Cas say?" Barry asked his husband. They were leaving the restaurant now, after having had a quiet, romantic meal, just the two of them. With Ilene growing bigger now, toddling around the house, and Peter, running in and out with the other kids in the neighbourhood, their place had been a zoo this summer. It had been nice to have a civilized dining experience for a change, one that didn't involve yelling, fidgeting, or projectile spitting, if a stray green vegetable happened to find its way onto Peter's plate.

"Not much," Tommy remarked. He held the door open for Barry. "He said everybody's fine. I asked him what he and Gail had been up to, and he said nothing."

"You mean, he didn't answer your question?" Barry said, his forehead wrinkling.

"No, I mean, he said that they're literally doing nothing," Tommy replied, frowning. "There's something up with him, hon. Frank said so, too. It's like those bi-weekly calls he makes to all of us, asking if everything's okay. Us, Frank, Rob, Hester...it's like he's obsessed, or something. But when any of us asks him why, he just says it's because he loves us."

"Well, I guess we can't really argue with that," Barry said, smiling. "We should have everybody over, soon. We could set up a badminton net in the back yard, and blow up the kiddie pool."

"That sounds great," Tommy said to his husband. "Let's plan that. I want to do it before summer's over, and Peter goes back to school. Angela will be going this year, too. She's a bit late to the party as far as formal education goes, but I'm sure she'll be fine. She's as smart as a whip."

Barry looked around. "Do you want to see if we can hail a cab?"

"No. It's such a nice night. Let's walk," Tommy said, taking Barry's hand. He patted his stomach with his other hand. "I'm getting a bit of a middle-aged spread, here. I can use all the exercise I can get."

The men walked companionably in silence for a while. Their home was in a cul-de-sac in a housing development in the neighbourhood, but there had been a lot of civic improvements to their area over the last couple of years. Which meant that several new strip malls had emerged just a few short blocks away. So now they had a choice of three restaurants that didn't feature plastic trays, or furry mascots. The city planners must have realized that there were a buttload of parents in the area who needed rescuing, Tommy had remarked dryly, and Barry had laughed.

Summer was already on the wane. How fast it all went, Barry thought as the men turned into a side road from the busy thoroughfare. Ilene was walking around the house now, learning new words by the minute. Carolyn was seeing a guy named Mike, who'd had to come over for a drink and go through the interrogation process before he could take Tommy's sister out. Barry had said, just before Mike had gotten there, that Cas should probably have come over and taught them a few tricks on how to break a man, and Tommy had laughed so hard that beer had come out of his nose. But Mike had turned out to be a nice, normal guy, who did manual labour in a garage, and was studying to be a mechanic. And he wasn't a homophobe. So that was a win-win, especially since it seemed like Carolyn and Mike might be getting a bit more serious, these days. Mike was terrific with Peter, too. Barry and Tommy had talked just between the two of them about the possibility that Carolyn and Peter might be moving out, sooner rather than later, if the romance continued to blossom. And, if that happened, they had agreed that they might want to look at adopting another brother for Ilene.

"Well, well, would you look at what we have here?" a voice said from behind them. Tommy's heart sank. He and Barry stopped walking, and they turned around.

It was a group of three young men, and the gay couple could see the men's faces under the street lights. The taller one in the middle was the one who had spoken. Tommy rolled his eyes. Del. The kid from down the block who wore ripped jeans and heavy metal T-shirts, and considered himself a badass. He and his sidekicks strutted around the neighbourhood as if they were the Hell's Angels, or something. That was something that Tommy could normally just overlook, or even make jokes about, if it hadn't been for the fact that Del's favourite epithet was the F-word, and he wasn't talking about the one that referred to the King's consent. And even that Tommy could overlook, albeit reluctantly, if Douchebag Del hadn't taken it upon himself to go out of his way to express his utter contempt for the alternative lifestyle to everyone else on the block. Most of their neighbours ignored him, but lately, Del had begun to hang around with several other guys who seemed to feel the same way as he did, and Tommy had grown a little concerned. Whenever he or Barry had seen Del and his merry little band around this summer, it was always the same story. What did they suppose was going to happen? Did they think that calling two grown men a couple of hateful names was going to make those men re-evaluate their entire lifestyle? Were they thinking that if they made living here unpleasant enough for Barry and Tommy, they would sell their house and move away? Like hell. They had built a good life here, and no snot-nosed, skinny little Rebel-Without-A-Clue was going to ruin that.

So Tommy had gone to see the youth's parents, and he'd received a bit of a wake-up call. Del hadn't been home, but his mother had opened the door, a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, and a beer in her hand. Far be it from Tommy to judge her for either of those things, but it had been ten o'clock in the morning. Then, her husband had come to the door dressed in a white undershirt and shorts, and he had been drinking a beer, too. Great.

But, because Tommy had spent much of his adult life dealing with people with closed minds, he tried not to be one of those people, himself. Del's parents were free to do as they pleased in their own home, weren't they? So he had smiled pleasantly at them both and asked if he could come in for a minute.

"What do you want?" the man had said bluntly, and Tommy had ticked a box in his mind. Okie-dokie.

"I just wanted to talk to you about your son," Tommy had started out calmly.

"What about him?" the woman had said in a raspy voice.

"He and the other young boys he's been hanging around with have been using some very ugly language to talk about me and my husband," Tommy went on. "We're big boys, but we have two young children at home who I'd rather not be having to explain that sort of thing to, just yet."

"Well, we raised Del to be a Christian," the mother said, as if that statement explained everything.

Tommy looked at her incredulously. "Then, shouldn't he be following the Commandments, loving his neighbour, and exhibiting kindness?" he said, trying not to sound too sarcastic.

"The Bible tells us that homosexuality is an abomination," the man said, taking a pull on his beer. "It says that homosexuals should be stoned, or burned alive."

Tommy was so outraged that he literally couldn't speak for a moment. What the actual...? "No, it doesn't!" he shouted. "Show me where it says that! No, you know what? Never mind. Let me tell you something: I don't mind getting stoned in a bar after a few martinis, and I used to get burned alive when I was younger, and I sat on the beach too long without sunscreen. But one thing I'm not gonna do is stand here and listen to your homophobic rantings, you narrow-minded a-hole! And, unlike your son, I'm toning down my language!"

Then Tommy had turned his back on the couple and stormed away from their house, before he became too tempted to tell Del's parents that he and Barry were actually very good friends with God and a whole host of Angels, including one who had been there from the very Beginning, and was in the very first chapter of that Book they thought they were quoting. Cas and Bobby should pay these people a visit, and tell them a thing or two about the Book they were using to support their hate. Gabriel, too. Tommy'd had to smile when he thought about Gabriel, trying to deal with those people. He would probably stand behind them making funny faces as Cas lectured them angrily, and Bobby shook his head, saying you couldn't fix stupid. Tommy had cheered himself up a little with those thoughts, and when he'd gotten home, he and Barry had had a good laugh, picturing what Tommy had imagined.

But the situation wasn't feeling too funny right now. Del was looking at them with a contemptuous expression, and so were his companions.

"Nobody wants to see the two of you prancing around, holding hands," Del told the men.

"I seldom prance," Tommy said sarcastically, "and if you don't want to see us holding hands, don't look."

"You've got some nerve, walking around in a family neighbourhood like this," Del went on, and Tommy had to bite his tongue. Yeah. A family neighbourhood. Del's parents were at home drinking during the day, and his mother had had a black eye. The couple, two houses over, dealt marijuana out of their home, and the ones beside them were faking disabilities, cheating the government. Yep, that was family life in the 'burbs, these days. But city life was no better, especially not when you were trying to raise kids. At least most of the crimes here were non-violent, and kept behind closed doors.

"My husband and my sister and our kids are my family, and I live in this neighbourhood, too," Tommy said through gritted teeth. He slowly began to approach where the young men were standing, focusing on Del. "But the difference is, my family actually believes in the values that your family only claims to. We believe in love, and inclusion. Apparently, yours only believes in hate, and prejudice, and childish name-calling. You know, I've dealt with guys like you all my life. In school, in the military, on the staff of the newspaper..."

"YOU were in the military?" one of the other youths interrupted him.

"Yeah, and don't even try it, 'cause I've heard it all before. The Queen's Queers. Private Pansy. The Fighting Fairy. Et cetera, ad nauseum," Tommy retorted, and the young man laughed. Tommy relaxed a bit. If he'd laughed, he could still be reached. That was what Frank and Gail always said. That was one reason those two made so many quips. If you could make someone laugh, you had gotten through to them on some level. If you could disarm the individual you were dealing with, that went a long way towards defusing them, as well.

Tommy sighed. "The point is, I've dealt with people in every stage of my life who always thought that there was something wrong with me, or that I was lesser than, because I was attracted to men, not women. But, so what? I'm not going to apologize for that. Who I'm attracted to is none of anyone's damn business. As long as my husband and I aren't doing it right here in the middle of the street, and I would never ask him to do that. Well, not without putting down a blanket, first." Tommy looked at Barry, who had been approaching the group slowly. Barry hated confrontation. If it had been up to him, he would have just run off home and locked the door. But he knew that Tommy couldn't let this kind of thing alone. It wasn't his husband's way. And Barry did admire his husband for speaking up. Too many times in their community, friends and acquaintances had been bullied, or worse. In some respects, things had gotten better since the generation he and Tommy had grown up in, but in other ways, things had gotten worse. There were certain factions that seemed to think that God's work included hatred and intolerance, and then there were others who didn't care about religion, they just liked to condemn and belittle people. Barry wasn't sure which of those types of people were worse.

Tommy had been being sarcastic when he'd added that last part about "doing it" in the street, Barry knew. That had sounded like something Frank might say. Barry had found that thought amusing, and he had laughed. In their family, whenever someone said something like that, there was usually a moment of silence and then people would laugh, and the tension would be broken.

But Del and his cohorts weren't exactly in a laughing mood. Tommy's comments had pissed them off, and when Barry had laughed, they became enraged.

And that was when they brought the knives out.

Laurel had let Patricia into Bobby's office when the group of them had been in the Caribbean, but when Patricia had attempted to remove the red file from Bobby's desk, Laurel had balked. Chuck's widow was extremely nervous about this whole thing. Patricia had been so persuasive, and Laurel was having mixed emotions about Chuck's so-called friends at the moment. But this was still God's office, and Patricia was no longer God. What if Bobby were to come back right now? How could Laurel explain Patricia's presence here?

Patricia had found the thin red file labelled The Book Of Life, but just as she had started to extricate it from the pile, Laurel had stopped her. "I changed my mind," Bobby's receptionist said. "I think you should leave."

"I will," Patricia said, beginning to smile. "I have what I came for, right here." She opened the file, glancing down at the first page. It was so thin that there wouldn't be much reading to be done.

But Laurel grabbed the file out of her hands, panicking. "I'm sorry, Patricia. I can't allow this," she said quickly. "Please leave, or I'll have no choice but to call Bobby. You're not God any more, and those files are Classified."

Patricia pursed her lips tightly together. "You'll regret that decision, my girl. Those people are not your friends. Mark my words. They don't care about you, or what happens to you."

"Bobby does," Laurel insisted. "He's like a father to me. He's had a lot on his mind, but I know he cares about me. I'll give you five seconds to leave, or else I'm calling him."

Patricia let out a frustrated breath, but she had little choice. She winked herself away.

Tommy had been taken completely by surprise. Del lunged at him with the knife, and Tommy just barely sideswiped his attack.

What the hell? he thought. His brain was having trouble processing what had just happened. Had that little hoodlum wanna-be just come at him with a blade?

Yes, he had, and here he came again, trying to attack Tommy on his flank side. He allowed himself a brief grin, thinking of Gail. This kid had no idea about the can of worms he had just opened. Tommy had fought Demons, and much bigger badasses than these juvenile delinquents, the year that Lucifer's death squads had been roaming the earth. That had been a few years ago now, and it was quite a few years before that when Tommy had received his hand-to-hand combat training in the infantry. But, some things you never forgot.

As Del attacked Tommy the second time, he grabbed the youth by the sleeve, pulled him forward, and punched him in the face. Del went reeling, dropping the knife with a clatter on the pavement.

The kid who had laughed at Tommy's earlier comments ran off in the opposite direction, and the other one stood there uncertainly for a moment. Then he came at Tommy, and while the two of them were circling each other, Del picked his knife up off the sidewalk, where it was glistening in the glow of the street lights. Then he and the other youth were both circling Tommy, and Barry's husband was watching them both warily.

Barry stood there uncertainly, not knowing what to do. He wasn't the fighter in the family; Tommy was. There was a reason that Barry had stayed behind in the bunker caring for Rob when the others had all been out there, fighting and killing Lucifer's gangs. Barry looked around wildly, but he saw nothing that he could maybe throw at one of the youths, to distract them from their attack.

Del lunged at Tommy again, and he backed up. But the other young man had moved in behind him, and he seized Tommy now, putting his knife to Tommy's throat.

"That's it; hold him, while I teach him a lesson," Del said to his cohort. The guy behind Tommy put his knife away and grabbed Tommy by both arms, holding him so that Del could punch him.

Tommy was still struggling to break free, but he was having two thoughts, right now. The first one was that these guys obviously hadn't watched a lot of movies. Everyone knew that the bad guys were supposed to attack the good guy one at a time. What terrible etiquette they had. And the second thought was that at least Del was only using his fists. Maybe Tommy could emerge from this whole thing with just a bruise and a scrape. He'd been on the end of an angry fist more than a few times in the past. That, he could handle.

"All right, we're even," Tommy said after Del punched him. Then he smirked, unable to help himself: "Your friend here is kind of holding me a little close, though. Are you sure you guys aren't in denial about something?"

Tommy and his big mouth. Del stepped up close, waving his knife in Tommy's face. "Shut up, homo," he said angrily.

As insults went, that one had definitely been pretty lame. But as Tommy and Del looked each other in the eyes, Tommy realized that the young man who was menacing him was still just a kid, in many ways.

"It doesn't have to be like this," Tommy said in a conciliatory voice. "I know your parents have taught you to think a certain way, but you're a man, now. You can think for yourself. Gay people are no different than you are. Really. We're all just humans here, trying to get through life. If you and your buddy will put your knives away, you can come over to our house for a beer, and then you'll see we're just normal people, living normal lives. What do you say?"

"God hates homosexuals," Del insisted. "My parents taught me that."

"Your parents are wrong, and I think, deep down, you know that," Tommy said in a calm, reasonable tone. "I don't think you really want to hurt us. I just think that you think, if you feel the same way that your parents do, that they'll notice you, and love you again."

Now there was that silence, as the four men were frozen in their positions. Barry had never been prouder of his husband. Tommy had gotten to the real heart of the matter, and now, the dialogue could begin.

And that was when Del stabbed Tommy in the stomach.

Cas and Gail were still at the bunker, hanging around with Sam and Dean. The mood had been somber as they'd talked about Frank, his murder of Rowena, and Bobby's feelings about it. But then, the mood turned a little more lighthearted when the subject about the regression spell on the Angels was raised.

"You guys were hilarious," Sam told them. "Gabriel, too. The cutest grown-up kids I've ever seen. Well, except for when you were squabbling."

"It's so strange. I can't remember anything about it. Were we that bad?" Gail asked the brothers.

"No, you weren't. We're just giving you a hard time," Sam said, grinning. "That Gabriel is a bit of an instigator, though. It would have been interesting to see him as a little kid. If he ever WAS a little kid, that is."

"Of course he was once a child. We all were, at one time," Cas stated.

But before the brothers had the chance to articulate the millions of funny images that were forming in their heads about that, Cas's head snapped up. Gail looked sideways at him. She recognized the expression on his face. He was receiving...something. But unless it was coming in over his private frequency, it couldn't be on Angel Radio. As soon as Gail had seen that look, she had thrown open her frequencies, and there was nothing specific coming in that was being directed to them.

"I have to go," Cas said tersely. "Have another drink, my love." Then he stood and disappeared, all in one motion.

She was astonished. "OK; what the hell was THAT, now?" she asked the brothers.

Dean shrugged. "That? That was Cas. I thought the two of you had met." He picked up the whiskey bottle. "Want another hit?"

Gail nodded absently, sliding her glass across the table to him. "Yeah, but he hasn't done anything like that in ages," she said, thoughtful. "He usually takes me with him, but even if he doesn't, he always tells me where he's going."

Dean slid the glass back to her. "Don't be one of those wives," he said, rolling his eyes. "The ones who've gotta keep tabs on their husband all the time."

Gail glared at him. "Really, Dean? Is THAT what you think? That I'm being the old ball and chain? Well, I'll tell you what: you can kiss my lily-white, Angelic ass. Raguel is out there somewhere, and so is Patricia. You remember HER, right? The one who locked him up, and nearly turned his brain into jelly? She's powered up again, and Heaven only knows what those two are cooking up together. Oh, and there's Vincent, too. We were just there, in his neck of the woods, and we just killed one of his voodoo cult members. Do you think he's just going to let that alone? So it's not like Cas is going out for a beer with his buddies and I'm standing at the door with curlers in my hair, brandishing a rolling pin." She grabbed the bottle of ginger ale, put some in her drink, and took a swig, still glaring at him.

There was a silence, and then Dean looked at Sam. "I liked her better when she was a little kid," he said to his brother.

Gail made a face, but then she started to smile, because she knew that was Dean's way of apologizing. They raised their glasses to each other in salute.

Barry had done the only thing he could think of to do, in that moment: he had begun to pray to Cas. He and Tommy had left their cell phones at home, which was the agreement that they had made between them whenever they went out for a romantic dinner.

Tommy fell to the ground after Del had stabbed him, and he was clutching his stomach. There was a lot of blood for one stab wound, Tommy noted, and it hurt like hell.

Barry had screamed when Del had stabbed Tommy, and it was a good thing that he had, because someone's dog started to bark in the neighbourhood, and the youths looked panicked. Or maybe it was just because they hadn't actually intended for things to go this far. But in any event, they took off running, and Barry was crying, praying to Cas, because it was the only thing he could think of to do.

Cas popped onto the street, with his blade at the ready. Barry's prayer had sounded so frantic that he hadn't wanted to take the time at the bunker to explain. "Where are they?" Cas barked at Barry.

"I don't know. They're gone," Barry wailed. He rushed over to Tommy, falling on his knees beside his husband. A day or so later, Barry would be picking out little bits of gravel from his skinned knees, but right now, he didn't even feel it.

Cas stood there for another moment, but it was full dark outside now, and he couldn't see anyone. The cowards were gone. So he put his blade back in his pocket, and then crouched down on Tommy's other side. "Move your hands, please," Cas said to his friend. Tommy took his hands away from his stomach, and Barry grabbed the hand that was on his side and gave it a squeeze.

Cas was studying the wound, without any expression of emotion. He couldn't afford the luxury right now. "I could heal the wound, but it appears that you might have some internal damage," Cas told Tommy, who was grimacing in pain. "I will take you and Barry to the hospital." Cas put his arm around Tommy, propping him up in a half-seated position. Barry grabbed Cas's other arm. He was used to the teleportation process by now.

"Where is the nearest hospital?" Cas asked Barry, and Tommy's husband told him. Cas knew where the Vancouver Hospital was, which was where they had taken Gail that time, but he wasn't familiar with this area. Barry had a split second to think about how funny that was, in a way. Maybe they were missing out on a niche market, here: GPS for Angels. But Cas was here now, and everything would be fine.

But, everything was not fine. When the medical personnel had rushed Tommy into Emergency, he had already suffered extensive blood loss. Cas had taken off his jacket and told Barry to press it on the wound, but the blazer was already soaked through when they wheeled Tommy into the waiting area.

"I need to tell you something, hon," Tommy said to his husband. Barry was standing beside the gurney, which was in the hallway outside the Intake area. It was a hot summer night, and there was a full moon. This was the kind of night that hospital staff always dreaded, because it was the kind of night that was full of freak injuries, and violent altercations.

Barry tried to smile. "I know. I love you, too."

"No, it's not that," Tommy said, squeezing Barry's hand. "In case I don't make it, I need to tell you that I've got a manuscript in the bottom drawer of my desk at home. I was trying to get up the nerve to show it to you and Carolyn."

Barry put his husband's hand on his own chest and then raised it to his lips, kissing it tenderly. "I don't want to hear any more talk about you not making it. You're going to be fine. Cas winked over to our place to get Carolyn, and Liz is going to babysit Peter and Ilene. And when your sister gets here, she's going to kick your butt for saying something like that." But Barry was crying now, because he was afraid that Tommy might be right. There was so much blood. Cas's jacket was a sodden mess now, and Tommy was still bleeding.

Barry lifted his head, looking around for a doctor, or a nurse, or anyone. "We need help, here!" he shouted. "Please!"

But no one came, because there was no one to come. They might not charge for most basic health care in Canada, but most hospitals were woefully understaffed, especially on nights like tonight. Meanwhile, Tommy was exsanguinating, right here in the corridor.

"If you and Carolyn like my book, you can decide if you want to try and have it published," Tommy went on, but his voice was getting weaker now. "But I'll leave it up to you, hon. Jody said to write what I love, remember? So I burned my old manuscript, and wrote about you, instead. About how it took me years and years to find you. But I wouldn't change a damn thing, Barry. The book's called 'One Man In My Heart', and it's a love letter to you." Tommy's eyes blinked a couple of times, and a tear slid down his cheek. "I love you, honey."

Then, finally, a man dressed in white came and said, "We're taking him to surgery, now."

Thank God, Barry thought, as the man wheeled Tommy away. It was about time. He just stood there, watching the gurney being wheeled down the hall and around the corner. The last thing he saw was Tommy's face, looking almost as white as the sheet on the gurney.

Carolyn, Barry, Cas and Gail were in the waiting area, nervously awaiting news. Liz and Gabriel were over at the house, but the kids were in bed. Barry hoped to have a positive report for the Angels soon, he'd told them.

But when the surgeon came out to where they sat, his expression was grim. "We did everything we could," he told the group. "But the blood loss was massive, and the damage to his liver was irreparable. I'm very sorry." Then he told them that a nurse would be coming out as soon as one was available to help make the arrangements. And then, he was gone.

Arrangements? "Make the arrangements?" Barry said, dazed. "What's he talking about?"

Carolyn was stunned. Were they honestly trying to tell her that Tommy was dead? That her brother was dead?

Cas's expression was a strange mixture of grief, shock, anger, and resignation. Gail was frozen. Immobile. There was no way. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be true. They must be talking about someone else.

While they were all still trying to process what had just happened, a woman approached them. She was wearing blue scrubs that had blood all over them. Barry stared at her, and she said, "I'm sorry. I haven't had the time to change. We were just notified that there was a multi-vehicle crash in the next city, and their hospital in already full to overflowing, so we're going to be picking up the slack here." She put her hand on Barry's arm, and thankfully, at least it was clean. "I just wanted to say that I'm very sorry for your loss. They've had to put your husband's body in the anteroom for now, because no one's had time to...never mind. You don't need to hear about all that. The point is, if you want to see him, you can go in, and then they'll have to have you fill in some paperwork. On a night like this, it's easy to forget that everyone who's brought in here is someone who is loved. I'm really sorry we couldn't save him."

Then she was gone too, and Barry stared after her. She hadn't once called Tommy by his name. Maybe it wasn't even him. "Cas, would you go to that anteroom?" Barry asked their friend. "I can't...I just can't."

Cas sighed. "Yes, Barry. If you want me to go, I will go." He glanced at Gail, and she gave him a nod of encouragement. A part of her was thinking along the same lines as Barry. The hospital was extremely busy tonight. Maybe they'd made a mistake. Maybe they had the wrong man. Tommy had only been stabbed once, hadn't he? In their circle, who hadn't been? And not just the Angels, either. They'd had occasions where most of their human friends who were Hunters compared war stories and showed both older and newer scars to each other, talking almost fondly about where each and every wound had come from. Tommy himself had recounted several tales of being beaten up, stabbed, and even shot. Contrary to mean-spirited and ignorant stereotyping of homosexuals, he was a tough, tough man.

Cas walked away, and the women led Barry over to the couch in the waiting room area. All three of them sat down, with Barry in the middle. Both Carolyn and Gail were holding one of his hands. Gail looked at Carolyn now, and the woman's complexion was ashen. Not to be forgotten in all of this was the fact that Tommy was Carolyn's brother. How agonizing this must be for her, too.

Cas walked into the anteroom. There was a body on the table in the corner, covered by a white sheet. For a split second, he had allowed himself to hope, too. But when he drew back the sheet, he saw that it was Tommy. Of course. Of course it was. Cas took Tommy's hand. Then he paused for a moment, letting the pain wash over him. The anger would come soon, but right now, Cas just wanted to mourn his friend.

"May you be at peace," he said to Tommy. "May you find only love, not hate, or prejudice, or intolerance. May we all embrace the differences among us, and strive to be kind to others. May love and compassion ever triumph over ignorance, and fear." Cas looked down at Tommy's face, and his own features contorted into a study in grief. This one had really hurt Cas, more so than any of the others. He and Tommy had always been kindred spirits, from the first day they had met. On the surface, the two men had appeared very different, but deep down inside, they were the same. Like Cas, Tommy had obviously been capable of a great love and sense of commitment for his life partner, and for his family. But also, Tommy had had a temper, and a fighting spirit. He had never been afraid to challenge the status quo, and to refute others' ideas of what should be. Those qualities spoke to Cas, because he himself had always been the very same way. The universe needed men like them; otherwise, everyone would just fall into line and conform, like sheep. Just like the way that Heaven used to be. And that wasn't a good thing. Even when Tommy had questioned the existence of Angels, he had done so because he was exercising his right of independent thought, and Cas respected that. However, when presented with incontrovertible proof of their existence, Tommy had not continued to stubbornly insist to the contrary, either, a fact that set him apart from many other types of people. People such as the ones who had spawned the one who had killed his friend, Cas thought. But he was starting to get angry now, and he didn't want to spend his last moments with his friend in that frame of mind.

So Cas raised Tommy's hand to his lips and gave it a kiss. "We loved you, Tommy. I loved you. There was nothing wrong with who you were. Goodbye, my dear friend."

Then Cas placed Tommy's hand on his chest where his vessel's heart was, and then he laid it gently back down on the table. He slid the sheet back up over Tommy's face and quietly left the room.

Before returning to the waiting room, Cas took a moment to slip into the chapel room down the hall. Thankfully, it was deserted. He wanted to talk to his Father alone.

He sat down wearily. "I just wanted to say..." His voice broke. Then, after a minute, Cas tried again. "If there is any way, I beg that You show mercy, before this whole thing gets even more out of hand. Please. Not for me, but for the others. If You won't take the cup from me, then let me drink it now, before anyone else has to suffer."

Then, Cas rose. There was no sense in waiting for an answer, because he knew that there would be none. He'd just wanted to get that off his chest.

Then he went back to the waiting room to deliver the bad news.

"So, what did the file say?" Raguel asked Patricia eagerly.

"I told you, I only got a glance," she replied. "'Five Originals, five riddles, and the location of the Book will be revealed'. She took the file from me before I could see any more."

Raguel let out a frustrated breath. "Why did you not just take it?"

Patricia's lips tightened. "She said she would call Bobby, if I did not leave immediately. I believe I was getting through to her, but she has an affection for and a loyalty to him that will be hard to overcome. Do not forget that I am an Angel again, and I am not cloaked. Bobby can find me any time he wants, should he care to look. And if he finds ME, he will also find YOU."

"They cannot kill me," Raguel said contemptuously. "If they could have, they would have. The jawbone is in Saqqara, far, far in the past, and no one has ever been able to lay their hands on it. Don't be concerned, my dear lady. I will protect you."

Wow, Patricia thought. She'd long heard that all of the Archangels had inordinately high opinions of themselves, and that particular legend was turning out to be absolutely true. She had never seen such utter conceit, and arrogance. Lucifer had thought that he was entitled to do any little thing he felt like doing, whenever he felt like doing it. Like the worst kind of spoiled brat. Raphael had thought that he was far superior to other beings. Gabriel thought he was the bee's knees, strutting around Heaven like it was his personal playground. Patricia was surprised that Castiel wasn't an Archangel too, because he was exactly the same way as far as the arrogance went. And now, here was Raguel, talking about himself, even though Patricia was the one who was vulnerable. He would protect her. Right. Sure, he would. No; Patricia would protect herself. She wasn't going to depend on the good humour of any man for her survival, especially not one as self-centered as Raguel obviously was. Patricia was desirous of the things he spoke about: restoring Heaven back to a Holy place, with high moral standards. Eradicating Sin. Those sorts of things. But she was darn well going to look out for herself, in the process.

"Five Originals," Raguel mused aloud. "Well, we know who THEY are, of course. And, each one has a riddle? What could that mean? What are the confounded riddles?"

Patricia frowned. She had no idea. And she had no idea where to even begin to HAVE an idea. The Originals were Lucifer, Metatron, Crowley, Castiel and Gail. The first two were dead, and the others might as well be, for all the help they were going to be in this situation. She couldn't even fathom what the riddles could be, or how the Originals were connected to the location of the Book of Life. If any of them knew where the Book was, Patricia was certain that she and Raguel would not even be sitting here right now.

She sighed. Why was everything so difficult?


	3. And I Love Her

Chapter 3 - And I Love Her

Things had been difficult for Gabriel, too, as the summer was on the wane. There were several reasons for that. The first one was that Cas was driving him crazy. It wasn't as if Gabe was unsympathetic to what his Brother had been going through. He understood what grief was like, and worry, too. Not a lot of people knew that about Gabriel. But there were a lot of things people didn't know about him. You could hide a great many things under the persona of class clown.

Like the fact that Gabriel was also becoming more and more convinced that time was running out on their little party, here. Or maybe Castiel's paranoia was just contagious. But, WAS it paranoia? Gabriel had kind of thought so, at first. If he himself was the class clown, then Castiel would be the teacher, admonishing the students that fun time was over, and they needed to take out their textbooks and get cracking. At first, Gabe had just rolled his eyes, said Yes, Brother, and did what he felt like doing anyway, because that was the way that Gabriel the Archangel rolled. When it was time to do the heavy lifting, he was off somewhere, drinking and womanizing. That was how it had always been, and far be it from him to change a system that was working so well.

Gabriel's problem was the same as Castiel's problem, this time around. He had fallen in love with these people, and he couldn't let that go. It was a lot harder to desert people you cared about. But whenever Gabriel started to care, really care, about something, or someone, that was when the hammer always came down. Castiel wasn't the only one their Father liked to punish. Soon, it had become an inevitability: when confronted with something real, Gabriel the Archangel would run, like the coward his family had always known him to be. You could call it the chicken or the egg, or a self-fulfilling prophecy, or whatever you wanted, but you could set your watch by it.

But...what if he didn't run, this time? Would that make a difference? Would that action be enough to stop this never-ending treadmill they seemed to be on? Or was Dad still just messing with them?

Well, there was only one way to find out, Gabriel supposed, and that was to fish, or cut bait. Gabe wasn't exactly up on too much that had been happening on Earth in the past couple of centuries, since he'd been so busy trying to wash his hands of it. But if he had been more familiar with the music scene, he might have heard a song in which the singer puzzles: Should I stay, or should I go? That singer could have been talking about Gabriel's entire existence. That was why he had thought, albeit briefly, about just staying in Saqqara when they had gone there. Surely God wouldn't reach all the way back there and grab Gabe by the scruff of his neck, would He? But in the end, Gabriel had opted to come back, like a mature adult. How pathetic.

It was that love. That stupid, idiotic, wonderful love that had brought Gabriel back. At first, Gabriel had been highly amused to see Castiel the warrior Angel hanging around with the Winchesters and Bobby, in that first go-round. Cas had tried to do whatever was considered to be his duty for Heaven, but his love for his human friends had kept getting in the way. Which had led to Castiel taking his eyes off the road and his hand off the switch, which had led to Raphael staging a coup of Heaven, which had almost led to the Apocalypse. And this time around, it was even worse, because Cas had fallen in love with a woman. And not just any woman: THE Woman. The One Who Was Promised. The one who Castiel had waited his entire existence for. Their Father had only ever given Cas brief moments in history with Gail before, but He had always pulled the rug out from under them before they'd even really gotten it going. Cruel, in a way, but this time, it was much, much worse. This time Castiel was in so deep that it would take a backhoe to get him out. Actually, he would set fire to anything, or anyone, who tried to extricate him, Gabe thought ruefully, because Castiel didn't WANT out. Cas and Gabe's little Kitten were as snug as two bugs in that proverbial rug, and there would be nothing and no one who could convince them not to fiddle while Rome burned.

So what was a Brother supposed to do when he saw his other Brother sowing the seeds of destruction? Should Gabe stay, or should he go, now? And just exactly where WERE his damn cuff links, anyway?

"Don't get me wrong, Gabriel," Liz said, taking his hand. "I've had a wonderful time here with you tonight. But, I know you brought me here to tell me something. I can see it in your face."

Dammit. Of course Liz would know that. Out of all the people he had known over his thousands of years' worth of existence, Liz was the one who was the most capable of seeing through his carefully-crafted facade. But she also seldom called him on it, which was interesting. No; she would just wait to see what he was going to do next. It was the damnedest thing. God Himself could fire-and-brimstone the crap out of Gabriel, and He sure had, but nothing had ever made Gabe want to fall in line more than that sweet look of hope and expectation on Liz's face.

"Do you want some more champagne, my turtledove?" Gabriel stalled. He snapped his fingers, and another bottle appeared in his hand. Without waiting for an answer, he poured them both a glass. Then he let go of the bottle and it just suspended there, in mid-air. Since Liz's birthday had been in May, he'd told her, he wanted to take her someplace special. So he'd taken her to Gemini, a largely unknown little hideaway outside the fourth quadrant of the Earth's galaxy. There was no natural gravity here, but such things were of little consequence to an entity like Gabriel. He could bend gravity to his will, if he was properly motivated.

Liz regarded her boyfriend evenly, but her insides were fluttering. Whatever it was that he was trying so hard not to say, it must be big. He had shown up for their date freshly coiffed and clean-shaven, wearing a designer suit, of all things, and smelling great. Then he'd brought her here, to this isolated but lovely place, and told her that she should feel honoured, because he'd never brought any woman here before. Liz had told him she always felt honoured to be with him, and he had looked at her like she'd punched him in the stomach, or something. But Liz truly meant it. She had never met anyone like Gabriel. He was endearing and exasperating, cute and capricious, conceited and self-deprecating. Capable of great love, but afraid to give himself over to that feeling. She continued to look at him, and it unnerved Gabriel so much that he blurted out:

"How would you feel if I wasn't here, one day? If I just up and disappeared? Would you miss me?"

Now it was Liz's turn to look incredulous. "How could you even ask me a question like that?" she said to him. Then, she frowned. "Or, maybe, the question should be: WHY are you asking me a question like that?" Liz was a loving, giving woman, who preferred to look at people from their best angles. But she was no pushover, and she was not all that naive. She knew all about Gabriel's storied reputation, and she also knew that, although a lot of it was based on fact, those facts only showed part of the whole picture. Still, if Gabe was getting ready to bail again, Liz felt like he owed it to her enough to at least tell her that, face to face.

Gabriel knew what Liz was thinking. Hell, he would have been thinking the exact same thing. Sweet understanding only went so far. Liz had a tougher core than many people gave her credit for. She was that perfect mix of soft and hard, sweet and tart. Almost like Gail, but a little less fiery. Although it seemed as though Cas and Gail were a mismatch on the surface, they were perfect for each other, because of that fire.

Just like Liz was perfect for Gabriel. He took her hand in both of his. "I don't know why I said that," he told her. "I brought you here so we could have a special memory together, one that I've never shared with any other woman."

"Because you're leaving," she said, sighing.

Gabriel's eyes widened. "What? No!" he protested. "No! Because I want to know if you like me enough to marry me!"

Liz stared at him for a moment, and then she burst out laughing. Gabriel was puzzled now. Should he be upset that she was laughing, or not?

"I'm sorry," Liz said, trying to compose herself. "It's just so funny!"

"It is?" Gabriel said doubtfully.

"Yeah!" Liz said, giving his hands a squeeze. "I thought you were dumping me."

"Please," Gabe said dryly. "I may be a lot of things, but I'm not crazy. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I love you, Liz. I would never leave you. I couldn't. I'm just hoping that you're enough of a Saint to give an old reprobate like me a chance."

Liz was silent for a moment, and then she raised an eyebrow to him. "I'll tell you what. If you ask me properly, you might get a favourable response."

Gabriel got down on his knees beside her. "My dearest darling Lamby-Kins. It has come to my attention that my lustful attraction to your female form has deepened into..." Then, he stopped himself. "No. No. I'm gonna do this straight, because that's what you deserve. Would you do me the greatest of honours by becoming my wife? I promise you that if you accept my proposal, you will never regret it. I will never leave you, I will always be faithful to you, and I will love you with everything I have, and everything I am."

Liz was astonished. There had been lots of terms of endearment exchanged between the couple, but she had never heard Gabriel talk like this before. She could tell that he was being sincere, so she said, "I would love to marry you, Gabriel. I love you so much. You're the one I was meant to be with. But I never want you to feel like you're tied down, or..."

"No, I don't, Liz," Gabriel assured her. "I don't. Believe me. I've had centuries to sow my wild oats. But now, my oats are all sown, and I'm just lucky enough to have found a woman who will take me as I am, whatever that's worth."

"It's worth a lot to me. YOU'RE worth a lot to me, Gabriel. You're a lot more than your reputation," Liz insisted. "Those of us who love you know that."

Then Gabriel was kissing her, and it was appropriate that they were in outer space, because his heart was as light and weightless as the stars, and the asteroids that were floating around them right now. No wonder Cas and Gail were...well, the way they were. It made total sense to Gabriel. He could drink all the alcohol in the world and never feel this high.

"Thank you," Gabriel said to her now. "Thank you for making me the happiest guy in existence. I don't have a ring yet, but I can take you to any jewelry store you want, on Earth. Tiffany's, Cartier...you name it."

Liz smiled. "You know I don't care about that fancy stuff. I'd like to have a ring like Gail's. Simple, but unique. Just like you."

"Are you calling me simple?" Gabriel said with a cocked eyebrow, and Liz laughed. Then Gabriel shrugged. "Hey, I don't care," he said. "I've been called a lot worse. As long as you call me your husband, you can call my anything you want."

Then they were kissing again, and then they were laughing and crying at the same time. Then Gabriel waggled his eyebrow and asked Liz if she had ever made love in space. She told him of course she had, tons of times. Then the two of them had laughed again, and it was a good thing that Gabe was able to bend gravity, because their clothes were coming off now, and Liz joked that she didn't want to show up in Heaven without a stitch on if she didn't at least have an engagement ring for people to look at. Gabriel had never loved a woman so much, not in his entire state of being.

It was entirely appropriate that Gabriel had proposed in outer space, Gail told the Archangel, since he was such a space cadet. Then she'd asked him if he'd picked that place to propose because it had such great atmosphere. And then, for the capper, she told them that she and Cas were over the moon about their engagement.

And they were, too. After the recent string of deaths and heartbreak, it was so good to get such wonderful news, for a change. And it was made even more wonderful when the couple had asked Castiel and Gail to stand up with them.

"Are you going to write your own vows?" Cas asked excitedly. He had been so down in the dumps following Tommy's death that some days, it had felt like there would never be any reason for him to smile, ever again. Gail had been loving and patient with Cas, of course, but she had been very sad, too. So the two of them had been hanging around Heaven, the bunker, and Frank's place, as well as at their house on Earth, but it was very difficult for them to stay in one place for very long. If they went to the library, or the wing where the tribunal room used to be, they could only think about Chuck, and how he'd changed from being an enemy to being a treasured family friend. If they went to the bunker, they could picture Tommy and Sam sitting at the library room table, researching the next country they would have to go to on their Tablet quests. Frank's place was haunted by Jody's ghost, figuratively speaking. And their own house was quiet and sad, because even when it was filled with family next, there would be some very conspicuous absences.

"You SHOULD write your own vows," Gail enthused now, agreeing enthusiastically with Cas. "We could help you with that, if you want." She looked at her husband. "There's no one who's better at romantic talk than you are, sweetie." As Cas smiled, pleased by the compliment, Gail added, "In fact, I almost wish that you and I couldn't communicate over our frequency sometimes, or even face-to-face, because I'd love to get some love notes from you. I still have the notes we made for our wedding vows in my Memory Book, and the ones you wrote to me when I was in New Orleans."

Cas looked at his wife, startled. Then, his heart sank. She was absolutely right. Had it really been that long since she had received a love note from him? Oh, no. It couldn't be. That was unacceptable. It didn't matter how heartbroken he had been. His and Gail's relationship was paramount. He had to make amends.

Later that day, Liz and Gail were at the school in Heaven. Liz was showing her friend around, pointing out all the improvements that she and Karen and some of the other teachers had instituted. George and his classmates were so excited by Gail's appearance that the kids ended up starting an impromptu question-and-answer session. How was Cas? What had he and Gail been doing on Earth? So Gail had fielded their questions, giving vague, noncommittal answers, because the truth wasn't something that she cared to divulge. Then, once the questions started getting a little off-topic, Gail was looking at Liz, bemused. A boy named Jake wanted to know if she and Cas just went around to all the hospitals healing people, and she had been taken aback by that, for a moment. But then, inspiration had struck, and she'd told him that if they did, all the hospitals would go out of business, and their employees would be out of jobs. Jake thought about that for a moment. Oh. Okay. He could understand that. But then he'd raised his hand again, and he'd asked if Cas ever went around changing water into wine, and Gail and Liz had looked at each other and burst out laughing. Then Gail had quipped that if they were going to consider doing that for Liz and Gabriel's wedding, they'd better get a head start, and she'd excused herself from the classroom, still laughing, before she said anything really inappropriate.

Then Liz wanted to pop in on the music class, where kids of varying ages were learning how to play musical instruments. This was another fairly recent innovation, and Gail was entranced. She was happy to see that the Angels who were running things now had not only embraced the programs that she and Cas had introduced, but were expanding them even further.

Gail turned to Liz after the tour to tell her friend that, and also to tell her how much she'd enjoyed the two of them hanging out together. Because Cas and Gail were on Earth so often, the women didn't really get a chance to do that much together. So, as they were walking down the halls of the school, Liz put her hand on Gail's arm. "Do you think you might have some time to help me plan the wedding?" she asked her friend.

"Are you kidding?" Gail said. "I'd love to do that! When, and where?"

Liz was silent for a moment, and just when Gail was about to accuse her of not listening, her friend said, "I'll tell you what. Why don't we go over to your office, and we can pick a date on your calendar?"

Gail laughed shortly. "Well, my schedule is pretty open these days. I don't think we need to worry about that."

Liz looked distressed. "Still, I want to do that. Can we do that, now?"

Gail looked at her, puzzled. Okie-dokie. It wasn't like Liz to be so insistent about something as minor as that. Or about anything, for that matter. Gail really hoped her friend didn't have any hidden, possibly latent, "Bride-zilla" tendencies. Then again, she WAS marrying Gabriel. How elaborate of a ceremony was HE going to want? Yikes. Heaven help her. So to speak. So, she nodded dutifully. "OK; my office, it is. It's probably not a bad idea for me to pop in there, every once in a while. I haven't used it in so long everything'll probably need a good dusting."

They popped over there, and Gail touched her finger to the identification panel beside the door. Cas had insisted that she have some sort of a security system, and Gail didn't want to carry keys around all the time. But there'd been a solution for that. An Angel named Malcolm had ascended, who had been an engineering student at MIT. He was a whiz with electronics, specializing in security systems, and he was able to install a fingerprint recognition system on the doors of both hers and Cas's offices. He'd tried to offer Bobby the same thing, but God had looked at him so balefully that Malcolm had turned tail and almost run from the High Office, much to everyone's amusement, when she'd told that story at the bunker. Cas and Gail could each access the others' office as well, because Malcolm had set up the panels that way. But if anyone else tried to enter either office without the proper authorization, a loud, braying alarm would sound, just like in Heaven's weapons room. It was unfortunate, in a way, but Gail could see the need for those kinds of systems.

The door swung open, and as the women stepped inside, Gail looked around, open-mouthed. There were white pieces of paper strewn all around the office. Taped to the walls, on her desk, on the table. There must be a couple of hundred of them, at least. She turned around to look at Liz, who was smiling widely.

"You set me up," Gail said, dazed. "That whole thing was a setup!"

"Well, sort of," Liz admitted. "But I did want to show you what was going on at the school, anyway. Cas asked me to stall you for a while, so I made sure to take you to Jake's class." Gail's friend was still grinning. "He's a 'why-is-the-sky-blue' kind of kid. I thought he'd be able to keep you occupied for a little while." Then Liz laughed. "I loved the look on your face when I insisted we come here to look at your calendar. That was when Cas gave me the all-clear. You should have seen your face. You thought I was turning into a Bride-zilla, didn't you?" Liz looked around the office, impressed by the job Cas had done. "Good luck even FINDING your calendar," she added, amused.

Gail looked at the back of the office door. There was a note taped there, because of course there was. It read: "There are an infinite number of reasons why I love you. These are just a few. I ran out of paper, and I also ran out of space. Simply put, you are everything to me. Your loving husband and humble servant, Cas."

She took the note off the door, crying out in delight. She folded the piece of tape behind it. Then she looked around again, in astonishment. Cas had written all of these? He had neat, legible cursive writing, with just a bit of a flair. How like her husband was that, anyway? Even his handwriting was unique, cute, and sexy, like he was. Gail wasn't really sure how handwriting could be sexy, but darn it, it just was.

She moved over to the desk, where the love notes covered the surface. They weren't taped to anything, thank goodness. Gail started to pick them up, one by one, adding them to the one she was holding. They were all different from each other. "I love you, because..." seemed to be the prevailing theme. "I love you because you're beautiful." "I love you because you're intelligent." "I love you because you're funny." "I love you, because you love me." Gail smiled at that one. "I love the way you kiss me." "I love the way you - Whoops," Gail said, putting that particular note under the pile she was holding and smiling at Liz. "That one's a little personal."

Cas ducked into the office, looking charmingly at his wife. He smiled at Liz, thanking her. "I was afraid you two would arrive before I was done," he told them. "Liz did a very good job keeping you occupied, though. I may have panicked a bit, at the end."

"Sweetie!" Gail exclaimed, launching herself at him. "I can't believe you did all of this!"

Cas put his arms around his wife, smiling. He had been hiding around the corner, waiting for Gail to enter the office so he could see her reaction. He'd heard her call out in delight.

Gail was amazed. So many love notes, for her? For her. She gave her husband a squeeze and then started to take down some more notes. "I love it when you get ice cream on your nose." Gail smiled. "And, I love it when you let me kiss it away." Gail was touched by that. Only Cas could turn something embarrassing like that into something to love about her. She continued to read: "I love it when you chide Dean, because that saves me from having to do it." Gail laughed merrily at that one. Then she took down the next note. "I love how you are reading these notes, one by one." Gail looked at her husband, amused. "OK, now I think you're reaching, a bit."

"Not at all," Cas said mildly. "As I believe I've said, I love you an infinite number of ways. I love everything about you."

Gail looked at Liz, who was still standing there, smiling widely. "Awwww," the women said together, and Cas laughed.

"You are so thoughtful," Gail told him. "And you have beautiful handwriting, too. Hey, maybe I should start writing down all the things I love about you!" Then she looked around again. "I wish I could take days and days, to take one of these down a day, and that could be like a daily affirmation for me, when I'm feeling blue," Gail mused aloud. "But, there are a few too many to make this place usable, right now. Not that I'm complaining!" she added hastily. "Because I'm definitely NOT! You know what, sweetie? That's just what I'm going to do. I'll make stacks of them, and read one per day, like a daily romantic affirmation calendar, or something."

Gail put her arms around Cas's neck. "Maybe we can act out a few," she said mischievously.

As her friends began to kiss, Liz said, "Well, I'm just going to..." She gestured to the door, but nobody was paying attention to her, anyway. So she backed out of Gail's office, smiling, closing the door softly behind her.

"We'll have to make it up to her, at some point," Gail said lightly, coming up for air. Then she smiled. "I want to read a few more!" she added eagerly.

"Why don't we go over to the table that's in front of the couch, then?" Cas said, lifting an eyebrow to her. "If you would like to find a few notes for us to act out, you may find a few there, underneath some others." He smiled charmingly again. "Just in case Liz were to look at the ones on the top, I wanted to make sure a few of the more personal ones were hidden."

She led him over there by the hand, and they sat down together. Gail read a few of the top notes anyway, just because she loved them all so much. This was so romantic. She just couldn't get over it. She moved onto her husband's lap, and he wound his arms around her. She kissed him on the mouth, and their tongues met. Cas made a sound, deep in his throat. This had been just what they'd both needed, to reconnect. They had both been so sad about the deaths in their family that it had been difficult for them to enjoy their romantic time together.

Cas couldn't stand it anymore. Gail shifted in his lap, and the friction was delightful. He winked them to the bedroom of their house on Earth, and Gail smiled. "I have no love notes to read, now," she said teasingly. "How are we going to know what to do?"

Her husband laughed softly. "I think we can improvise," he told her. "In fact, I know what I'd like to do, right now."

Then their clothes were off, and then they were making love, and Cas had been right, as usual. They didn't need any notes at all.

A couple of hours later, Gail was back in her office, taking down some more love notes from the furniture and the walls. She resisted the temptation to read them all. When she and Cas had been taking a rest at the house, she had told him that she really did intend to try to ration herself to one love note a day. Her goal was to gather them all up and make them into a calendar. Cas had asked her if she minded if he went to his own office for a few minutes, and then he would come and help her. Gail had laughed, saying that it actually might be a much quicker process if he didn't help, because they would probably just get carried away, again. Then Cas had laughed too, and after about another hour, they had finally climbed out of bed and gone back to Heaven.

Gail was smiling as she got down on the floor to remove a couple of notes Cas had taped to the bottom of the wall on the far side of the office. Boy, had he ever been dedicated. She was on her knees now, bending down to remove the tape. Of course, Cas had eventually confessed to her that when he had started to panic, thinking he was running out of time, he had just waved his arms, and the notes had adhered themselves to the remaining empty spaces.

That must have been what had happened here, Gail thought with amusement. There was no way Cas could have taped this note so far down the wall; not unless he'd been laying prone on the floor. This last note was proving to be a little stubborn, though. She pulled at the tape, but it was sticking fast. She tugged harder. Boy, oh boy. Cas must have really been in a hurry.

Finally, the note came off, but a part of the wall came off with it. What the hell? What was she, The Hulk? She felt around, and a second panel of the wall came off in her hand. What?

Then she realized what was going on here. There was a hidden compartment here in the wall.

Gail called Cas, and he came to her office immediately. After making a joking comment about Bobby billing her for the damage, Gail pointed at the wall. The golden ray came out of her finger, and she traced a bigger square in that section of the wall so they wouldn't have to get down on the floor to see what was in the hidden compartment.

Cas was apprehensive. It was easy to forget that this used to be Metatron's office, way back when. What might he have hidden here? Once the compartment had been enlarged, Cas stepped forward. "Allow me," he said, not giving Gail much option but to stand back. Her lips twitched. What did he think was IN there?

Cas reached inside and pulled out a scroll. He unfurled it, and his forehead wrinkled.

"What is it?" Gail asked Cas eagerly, and he said, "It appears to be some sort of a Glossary, of arcane Enochian words and phrases."

Oh. Gail was puzzled. "Okay...why would he have hidden something like that?"

Cas was confused, too. "I have no idea, but I'm glad we found it," he remarked. "I'll take it to Kevin. I'm sure he'll find it very helpful, in translating some of the more obscure Tablet writings."

Cas stashed the scroll in his blazer pocket and then he rooted around in the hidden compartment again. This time, he came out with a scrap of parchment. He started to read the words that were etched on it in the ancient language, and his eyebrows shot up.

"What is it, Cas? What does it say?" Gail asked him curiously.

Cas couldn't believe it. "It says here that each of the 5 Original Angels was endowed with a parchment piece, each of which has a riddle. Once each piece is found, and the riddles are solved, the fragments of the resultant words, when put together, will add up to the location of...the Book of Life!"

Gail stared at her husband, astonished. No. No way. "That's unbelievable!" she exclaimed.

Cas looked at her, and then at the piece of parchment he was holding. "This particular piece is Metatron's riddle," he told his wife. "The riddle is: 'It is one in one, three in two, and two in four'."

"Oh, goodie. A math quiz," Gail quipped. "Maybe the number is a street address, or something? What was that again, sweetie? One and one..."

"No. It says 'one IN one, three IN two, and two IN four," Cas replied.

Gail frowned. "That doesn't even make any sense, Cas. What does that mean?"

Cas was thoughtful. "I don't know, my love. I suppose we'll have to brainstorm about it. And then we'll have to figure out where all of the other riddles are, as well. Yours and mine might be one matter, but, Crowley's and Lucifer's will be a different matter, altogether."

Wow, Gail thought. Yeah, Cas wasn't kidding about that. But now, at least they had a jumping-off point. She was glad. Having missions to do had always helped them to get over whatever grief and heartache they were experiencing at the time.

"Are there any other little gems in there?" she asked her husband, half-jokingly. "Jimmy Hoffa? The Colonel's Secret Recipe? How to get Dean to chew with his mouth closed, maybe?"

"This may be Heaven, but that truly WOULD be a miracle," Cas responded in kind. He blessed his wife, and the situation, too. Cas felt the same way that Gail did: having a clear mission had always helped them to feel like they were doing some Good. Counterbalancing the forces of Evil. Imagine if they were able to finally obtain the Book of Life. Then, neither Vincent nor Raguel would be able to use the ancient writings for their own nefarious purposes. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

But the most wonderful boon was yet to come. As Cas reached into the compartment once more, not really expecting to find anything else, his fingers brushed a box. It was pushed back further into the wall's recess. He bent down, peering into the niche. "There's a box in there," Cas told Gail. He stretched his hand further into the opening. "I can...just...reach it."

Cas took the box out, and both he and Gail looked at it eagerly. Cas removed the top from the box, and both Angels gasped.

It was the jawbone.


	4. Just Killed A Man

Chapter 4 - Just Killed A Man

Barry and Carolyn were sitting on the couch in their living room, with a box of tissues on the cushion in-between. There was an open bottle of wine on the coffee table in front of them, and it wasn't their first.

Tommy's husband had finally felt like he had the strength to go into the desk drawer and get that manuscript out. Carolyn had asked Mike to take the kids for the night, anticipating that she and Barry would probably get fairly drunk and weep in each other's arms once they'd read Tommy's book.

It had been three weeks since the funeral, and Carolyn had quit her job to be at home with Barry, and with the kids. Ilene was a toddler now, still too young to understand what it meant for someone to die. So she would take tottering steps around the house, looking from room to room, as if she was searching for Tommy. That had broken Barry's heart, as had Peter's constant inquiries about whether Uncle Tommy and Aunt Jody had gone to Heaven together. Sometimes these concepts were impossible for Barry to understand, so how on earth was he supposed to explain them to little kids?

Then, there had been the thorny issue of how Tommy had died in the first place. Aunt Jody had been sick. Every child could understand that simple concept. But how could you possibly explain homophobia, and so-called religious zealots, to children that young? How could they tell the kids that their father, and uncle, had died simply because he had loved his legally wedded spouse?

The Angels had all been at Tommy's memorial service, of course, and so had Sam and Dean, and Frank and his kids. Little Angela had sat beside her "cousins" Peter and Ilene, and she had taken one of their hands each in hers. That had been both the cutest and the most heartbreaking thing Barry had ever seen, and he and Frank had had a bit of a moment over it back at the house, afterwards. It was as if Angela had understood how lost they must be feeling and had sought to comfort them, as an adult would do. Unfortunately, Angela had the personal experience of losing a parent to draw on. She had left Poochie and Ralph at home without a word of protest, because she knew now that their presence wasn't appropriate at those types of occasions. That particular fact had made the men very sad, because kids that young really weren't supposed to be familiar with the protocols of mourning.

Both Cas and Sam had gotten up and given eulogies at Tommy's service, as had his old newspaper buddy from Calgary, who had flown in specially for the occasion. There had been a number of people from the gay community, too, and more than a few of them had been very angry, telling Barry that he should go to the press with the story. But Tommy's husband had looked at Cas and Gail sitting in the front row, clasping hands and weeping, and he had said no. What would be the point of that? Del had turned himself in to the police later that night, and despite his parents' best efforts to get the youth out of jail and absolve him, Del had elected to stay in jail pending his trial, and he advised his lawyer that he intended to plead guilty at the proceeding. His accomplice had lawyered up, as the expression went, but Del wasn't concerned about that. Both he and the young man who had fled the scene were fully prepared to testify to the unvarnished truth about what had happened that night. Del had penned an anguished letter of apology to Barry, which his lawyer had hand-delivered to their house. Barry had been astonished when the man had knocked on the door and offered him the envelope. He had taken it and just stared at it, speechless.

But Carolyn hadn't been speechless. She had marched up to the door and grabbed Del's attorney by the sleeve, pulling him into the house. She had taken him into the living room and showed him Ilene's playpen, and the books that Tommy and Peter had been reading together. She had screamed at the lawyer that his client needed to explain to those children why their daddy, and uncle, wouldn't be coming back any more. Oh, and by the way, Tommy had been Carolyn's brother, and that murdering little bastard he was representing could take his letter of apology and shove it right up his ass, as far as it would go. Then she had dragged the shocked attorney back to the front door and shoved him out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

So here Barry and Carolyn sat reading Tommy's manuscript, drinking and weeping together. But there were laughs, and warm, reminiscent moments, too. The book was ultimately a love letter to his husband, Tommy had said in the Preface, but it was also Tommy's own life story. It was the story of a young man who had grown up in an ultra-religious family, coming to the unsettling realization that he'd felt different for all those years growing up because he was gay. He'd always been raised to believe that homosexuality was a sin. No, not just a sin; an abomination. That was what all of those religious zealots always said. Strangely, as it had turned out, it had been the same with his killer's parents. That was probably why Tommy had reacted as strongly as he had with Del's folks. Because he'd been told the very same thing by his own, for all of his young life.

Then Tommy had gone on to describe his own reactions to his realization, which had included denial. Of course, Barry thought. It had been the same with him. A vast section of society still thought that homosexuality was at best undesirable, and at worst, a sin. So many young people attempted to simply conform, rather than buck the trend. But those types of forced encounters frequently ended in abject failure, if not downright disaster. Tommy went into some detail about his attempts to date girls in high school, and he was unflinchingly candid about the one time he had taken one of those girls up to the local Lookout Point. He'd changed her name, the notes in the manuscript read, because as far as he knew, she would be married with kids of her own now. "Myrna" had done nothing wrong, Tommy'd said, she'd just reacted like a normal teenage girl would when he had kissed her like that. They'd climbed into the back seat, and Tommy had started to take her clothes off, and... nothing. Absolutely nothing. He'd told her that he must be nervous about getting caught. That must be the problem. Then he'd told her that he would take her home. It was a quiet, tense ride back to her house. Tommy'd felt bad for Myrna. Even then, he'd realized that her self-esteem had probably taken a huge hit over that experience. What teenage boy WASN'T up for sex in the back seat? It must be her, then, Myrna was probably thinking. The problem was, Tommy had no idea how to even begin to tell her that it wasn't her, it was him. And if that wasn't the oldest and most pathetic cliche in the book, Tommy didn't know what was. But he could hardly have told her the truth. It would have been all over the school in a matter of hours, and Tommy hadn't felt strong enough to withstand that kind of scrutiny, both at home and by his peers.

Boy, could Barry relate. As it had turned out, his own dad had been very supportive, Barry told Carolyn now. But the fear of coming out was real, and so was the attempt to deny who you really were in an effort to placate others. Barry ended up telling Carolyn about his own extremely awkward "date" with a girl, when he'd been in his early teens. He'd gotten a little further with his girl than Tommy had with his, Barry said, but only because he'd thought of a boy in their class, instead. But then the girl's parents had come down to the basement, and the young couple had separated hastily. That incident had pretty much served as Barry's own wake-up call.

Of course, it had been more difficult for Tommy because of their religious family upbringing, he'd said in the manuscript. But he had made sure to single out Carolyn as the lone dissenter in the family. Unfortunately, she'd left the family home at a fairly young age, Tommy had written. But he couldn't blame her one bit, and if the reader kept on going, they would see that the two siblings had been reunited later in life, and they were very happily co-existing now in a house in the 'burbs with Tommy's husband, Carolyn's young son, and the little girl who the men had adopted.

Then Tommy had gone on to talk about his first sexual experience with a man, his stint in the military, his relationship with Wyatt and their breakup, Tommy's career as a reporter, and his and Barry's meeting and courtship, to use an old-fashioned term that a very good friend of theirs favoured. Tommy had gone on to talk about becoming acquainted with Cas and Gail, and the influence the couple had had on his and Barry's relationship. This was the only area in which Tommy had fudged the truth, out of necessity. The irony of a now-openly gay man "outing" his friends as Angels had tickled Barry, and he and Carolyn had had a laugh about that. Barry was reminded now that not only had Cas reunited him and Tommy when they'd split up over a difference of faith, but that the Angels had brought Carolyn back into Tommy's life at the men's wedding. Which meant that they had blessed Barry with Tommy's sister, too. She was like his own sister, the one he'd never had. Barry had no idea how he would have gotten through the last few weeks without Carolyn. And her boyfriend Mike had turned out to be as solid as a rock, also. Barry was very happy for the two of them, and he'd told her that Tommy would be happy that his sister had found such a good man.

When they'd finished reading the manuscript, Carolyn had lain the pages down on the coffee table, staring at them silently. She and Barry embraced, clutching handfuls of tissues. Then Barry picked up the bottle of wine and refilled their glasses, and then he lifted his in a toast.

"To Tommy, the man we love," Barry said, and they clinked glasses and drank. Barry had used the present tense on purpose. "'One Man In My Heart' is going to be a best-seller," Barry vowed. "I'm going to call in every favour I can in our community. Tommy deserves that. He's written a wonderful book, here."

"I agree," Carolyn said, "but, you know what? I don't think we should shop it only to the gay community. In fact, I think it might open some minds, if we can market his book primarily as a story about love, and acceptance. Love for others, and love for yourself, too. Just because the love story happens to be about two men, who CAN'T relate to those concepts?"

Barry realized that she was right. If he was going to go out there and flog Tommy's book as a story about love and inclusivity, he shouldn't restrict the potential market to just the gay community, should he? If they could get even one or two people to open up and start a meaningful dialogue about prejudice and tolerance, their story could have a deeper meaning. In any event, Barry meant to see that his husband would become a published author, which had always been Tommy's fondest desire.

"To love and acceptance," Carolyn said, and they toasted again.

The chatter had begun on Angel Radio, and soon, it was all that anyone could talk about in Heaven.

There had been a very loud argument between Bobby, Castiel, Gabriel and Gail in Bobby's office, one that Laurel and Liz had overheard. Then Kevin and Linda had been passing by, and the shouting had been so loud that the mother and son had come into the reception area to ask the ladies waiting outside what the hell was going on. Then one Angel had told another who had told another, and now, everybody was talking about the shocking news.

It had all started when Cas and Gail, and Liz and Gabriel, had walked into the reception area. Laurel had looked up from her paperwork, but Castiel had strode right past her to Bobby's door, with the others trailing behind.

"You can't do this, Cas," Gabriel was saying, and Cas stopped short. "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do," he said angrily.

Bobby had opened his office door. "What's all the ruckus?" he asked them.

"Castiel's lost his mind," Gabe said loudly. "Maybe YOU can talk some sense into him."

Bobby sighed. "All right; come in, then."

Gabriel took Liz's hand, but Cas said, "No. She has to stay out here."

"What? Why?" Gabriel exclaimed.

"She doesn't have the security clearance for this conversation," Cas replied.

"Since when does something like that matter to somebody like you?" Gabriel retorted, and Gail piped up, "What do you mean, 'somebody like him'?"

Gabriel tilted his head. "You can't possibly be defending him right now, Kitten! Or have you lost YOUR mind, too?"

Bobby let out a frustrated breath. "OK, stow it, everybody. Come on in, and we'll hash this thing out, whatever it is." He looked at Liz. "You too, dear."

"This is about the Book of Life," Cas said to Bobby sharply, and God sighed. "Dammit, Cas," he said, but then he swore under his breath, looking at Liz again. "Technically speaking, he's right, Liz. I'm sorry, dear," Bobby said to Gabriel's fiancee.

"That's OK. I'll just wait out here," Liz said calmly. She stepped back, as Bobby opened his office door wider to let the trio in.

But it had turned out to be a moot point, because the conversation had been so heated that it could be heard loud and clear a couple of corridors away.

The instant Bobby's office door closed, he frowned at the three Angels. "So, what gives?" Bobby said impatiently.

Cas explained about the hidden compartment in Gail's office, and the fact that they had recovered the scroll, and the piece of parchment with the riddle. He said nothing about the jawbone.

"Well then, that's good, ain't it?" Bobby said, puzzled. "You can get working on those riddles, and find the damned thing."

"Yeah. Except, HE doesn't want to do that!" Gabriel said, pointing at Cas. "He wants to negotiate with Raguel!"

"Negotiate? With Raguel? The guy who killed Chuck? Are you nuts?" Bobby raged at Cas in a thundering voice.

Laurel's head snapped up, and Liz looked at her with wide eyes. That was the moment that Linda and Kevin drifted into the reception area, and all four of them were staring open-mouthed at the door of Bobby's office.

"No, I am not 'nuts'," Castiel said in a clipped tone. "Raguel can give me Vincent. If he will deliver Gail's father to me, I will offer him half of the Book, in return."

"Why don't you just give him the whole damned thing, while you're at it?" Gabriel shouted, exasperated. "How stupid ARE you? It's not worth the risk, Cas!"

"It's no use, Gabriel. I've tried reasoning with him," Gail said, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Look, Cas, we all want Vincent out of commission, but we can't give half that Book to Raguel."

"Of course we can," Cas insisted. "He wants the same thing we want. He wants to eradicate Evil. If we form an alliance with him, Heaven will be protected, and then we can go after Vincent, and Crowley. I see no reason we couldn't work together. Raguel is an Archangel of the Lord too, Gabriel."

"You have GOT to be kidding us with this," Gabe said, rolling his eyes. "Raguel isn't an ANYTHING of the Lord. Dad used to send him out to round up Demons to execute, just to shut him up. Then he kept going around telling everybody that he was the sword of God, and then, he started calling himself an Archangel. Yeah, right. Archangel, my ass."

"Be that as it may, if he can deliver Vincent to me, I intend to explore the opportunity," Cas said stubbornly.

"What's this 'me/I' crap?" Bobby said irascibly. "Last I looked, it was MY butt print in this chair."

"I did not come here for your permission," Cas said stiffly. "I merely came here to tell you what I intend to do. I will meet with Raguel on the blood ground."

"On the what?" Bobby asked him, mystified.

"Never mind," Cas said tersely. "I will return, with my report."

There was a moment's silence, and then Gabriel exclaimed, "Oh, hell, no! He did NOT just do that!"

"Where did he go?" Bobby asked Gail.

"How am I supposed to know?" she said, raising her voice. "Half the time, he doesn't even tell ME where he's going!"

"Great. Just great," Bobby sighed. "Well, ya know what? When he gets back, you tell him to come here. Him and me are gonna have a little talk about who's God, and who's not."

"Why don't you just track him down now?" Gabriel said irritably.

"Oh, so now YOU wanna be God, too?" Bobby retorted. "Look, Gabriel, I know Cas. If I try that with him now, he's just gonna dig his heels in, and we're not going to get anywhere. Let him go, for now."

There was another silence, and then Gail said, "Come on, Gabriel. Bobby's right. We'll let you know when he comes back," she told God. Then she and Gabriel exited the office, and when they got back out to the reception area, Linda and Kevin were gone, Liz was reading a magazine, and Laurel was doing some filing.

But, as these kinds of things will, word started to spread around Heaven that Bobby and Castiel had had a disagreement. Then, with each re-telling, it became an out-and-out fight, and at last report, Castiel had gone rogue, saying he was going to propose a partnership with Raguel to oust Bobby from the Head Office. By the time word reached Heaven's general population, that story was all over Angel Radio.

The chatter was so loud that it had gotten through to Raguel, and he was smiling smugly now.

"Why are you looking like that?" Patricia asked him, puzzled.

"No particular reason, dear lady," the Archangel replied. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I'll take a bit of a walk, and get a breath of fresh air. I will return later."

He exited her apartment. Patricia had been helpful to him to a certain extent, but Raguel would much prefer it if he and Castiel could work something out, to their mutual satisfaction. Castiel could be of far more use to him. According to the talk on Angel Radio, it appeared as if Castiel was fed up with the slipshod way that Bobby was running things. If Castiel was prepared to negotiate with Raguel with the aim of bringing about a regime change, the Archangel was certainly not above considering a deal. The deal would be on his terms, of course, but there was no harm in giving Castiel the impression that Raguel actually could deliver Vincent to him, if that was what it took to get the deal done. It was not particularly surprising that that was what Castiel would ask for in return. His wife was his Achilles' heel; his greatest weakness. It was most unfortunate, really. But for now, Raguel would not concern himself with that particular issue. If it became problematic in the future, he would deal with it. But at the moment, the important thing was to get Castiel to the bargaining table.

Raguel sent Castiel a message on Castiel's private frequency. Was he willing to agree to a pro tem truce so that they could meet, to discuss a mutually beneficial arrangement?

Castiel was. He told Raguel to meet him on the blood ground, and the Archangel immediately understood: the blood ground was the field in Egypt where they had faced off before, and Castiel and Gail had both ended up committing suicide. For differing reasons, but ultimately, for love. A "blood ground" was a place for sacrifice, and it was a term that only a handful of the longest-serving Angels would be familiar with. That was the reason that Cas had used the phrase when they'd been in Bobby's office; so that Bobby would not know where he was going.

Cas was already standing there in the area behind the Coptic Museum when Raguel got there.

"I am unarmed," Raguel announced. "I am taking this meeting in good faith, as I am hoping you are."

"I did not bring my blade," Cas told the Archangel. "I am here in good faith also, I think we can work out some sort of a mutually beneficial agreement."

"How do I know you didn't ask me here to try and trap me?" Raguel asked him warily. "I did kill the Prophet, after all. He was your friend, was he not?"

"He thought he was," Cas said coolly. "My wife had a soft spot for him. She is a lot more forgiving than I am. But you know me, Raguel. I do not forgive that easily. He plotted and schemed against me for years, and then he ingratiated himself with my wife when I was running for the High Office. I suppose he thought that he would rise through the ranks faster, if I considered him my friend. But Patricia ended up winning the Office, instead. I will not lie to you, Raguel. It rankled me to lose the Office to that woman. But that is all history, now."

"Why didn't you wage the Holy War with Crowley when you held the Office?" Raguel asked Castiel curiously. So far, the Angel was telling him everything he'd come here to hear. Castiel was showing his true colours now, and to Raguel, they were glorious. People said that Castiel had lost his fervour, and that he no longer served Heaven, he served humans. But Raguel found that impossible to believe. Everything Castiel did, he did for a reason. It would not surprise Raguel one bit to discover that Castiel had chosen to live among the humans in order to discover their secrets, and to gain their trust so that he would be much better prepared when the time came. The Castiel that Raguel was familiar with had used such duplicitous methods before. And if he had happened to fall in love with an Angel along the way, well...what great leaders had not, at some point? Even Napoleon had had his Josephine. Castiel's own parents had been Adam and Eve, after all, and they had been together for centuries before God had taken them. But, Raguel was woolgathering, waiting for Castiel's answer now.

Castiel frowned. "I really wanted to, but due to the lax administrations before mine, our Army was much too small, and woefully unprepared. Yet, I tried, anyway. You may have heard about our little foray into Hell to slay Crowley. We were able to slaughter dozens, maybe even a few hundred, of his men. But, it wasn't enough. We suffered heavy casualties, and I had no choice but to retreat."

"Under my administration, you would have all the troops that you need, and more," Raguel assured him.

Cas nodded, saying, "I was hoping you would say that. Bobby does not want the War. But if you do, I think we can do a deal."

"I do, very much," Raguel said firmly. "With me in the Office and you at my right hand, we can vanquish all Evil. Then, we will move upon the Earth, and make it into the Paradise that Father always meant it to be."

"I would require a few concessions, when it comes to that," Cas said calmly. "I have developed a certain affection for some humans there. Besides, we could use these men, as allies. They are like-minded individuals, who have dedicated themselves to the eradication of Evil. Our goals are the same."

"That would be fine, as long as they keep their place," Raguel said haughtily.

"Yes, of course," Castiel said impatiently. "We are their superiors. That goes without saying."

Raguel smiled. "I am delighted to hear you say that. When I took this meeting, I was not sure where you stood on such matters."

Cas smiled thinly. He took a few casual steps toward the Archangel. "I know what people are saying about me," he said. "They say that I am soft. I have allowed humans to distract me from my true mission. I have married a woman who loves humans, and I have allowed her to lead me around by the nose. Isn't that true? Isn't that what they're saying?"

"Yes, it is," Raguel confirmed. "But seeing you and hearing you now, I don't believe any of it."

"That's because you're very astute," Cas praised him. "I don't contradict those ridiculous notions, because it suits my purposes to have people think those things about me. If people think I have gone soft, that gives me a tremendous advantage. Perhaps I am merely allowing the humans to THINK that I have forgotten my true purpose."

"That's exactly what I thought!" the Archangel said excitedly.

"I do confess that I love my wife, and that she has a fondness for certain humans," Cas continued. "But I see no reason why those humans cannot be spared. And, yes, my wife is a strong woman. She would not be a good match for me if she was weak-willed and subservient. That type of woman does not interest me. I have made Gail into a warrior, who can fight alongside any man. But, because she is a woman, she is able to gain access to certain factions that would be harder for me to penetrate. However, even though she is strong with others, she will obey my word. I have simply discovered that, like many women, she responds far better when I employ tenderness instead of a firm hand."

Raguel nodded. He had never been particularly interested in the psyche of women, but that made sense to him. He was very reassured by the fact that Castiel had his wife well in hand, though. The Archangel had of necessity aligned himself with women from time to time, and he had found them to be very capricious, at best. Raguel preferred to deal with men, whenever possible.

Castiel was speaking again: "In the interests of good faith, I have brought something to show you," he told Raguel. "It's a riddle that we found in Heaven, in Metatron's old office. We are to find four other riddles, and once all five are solved, the location of the Book of Life will be revealed." He reached slowly into his pants pocket and took out the copy of the riddle. "We have not yet worked out the solution for this first one. Perhaps, if you would like, we can work on locating and solving them together."

Raguel was convinced now that Castiel was sincere about their proposed partnership. The Angel would have no idea that Patricia had read the first page of the red file, the one which made mention of the riddles, Raguel thought. The fact that Castiel had brought up the subject of his own accord and was willing to share the first riddle with the Archangel was enough to establish trust.

"Yes, by all means. Bring it here," Raguel said, gesturing.

Cas walked over to where Raguel was standing, handing the riddle to him. As the Archangel gazed down at it, puzzling over the verbiage, Cas said, "Oh, and we found something else in the office, as well."

"Yes? What was it?" Raguel said impatiently.

"This," Cas said, taking the jawbone out of his pocket. He sprang forward, driving the jawbone into Raguel's chest with all his might. "Chuck WAS my friend, and he was a good man, and a good and dutiful Angel." Cas twisted the jawbone, cutting deeper. "And what on Earth would ever make you think that I would ever align myself with someone who was prepared to take my wife's Grace from her? Or did you think I would not find out about that particular offense?"

Raguel put his hand around Cas's throat and squeezed, but Cas didn't let up. He knew that if he gave the Archangel any quarter, he could very well escape.

Raguel was bleeding and in a great deal of pain now, but he was not going to go down without a fight. Castiel had utterly and completely fooled him. The Archangel should have paid closer attention to his own thoughts about Castiel's duplicitous nature, he supposed. But he was not dead yet, so he put his other hand on Castiel's chest, and a sickly yellow glow came out. Because the jawbone was already doing its work in Raguel's system, his power was diluted. That was fortunate for Cas, because a salvo from an Archangel at such close range would have vapourized him immediately. As it was, Cas was flung backwards, across the field. He landed on his back with a bone-jarring thud.

The jawbone was still embedded in Raguel's chest. But as he reached down to wedge it out, Gabriel appeared behind him, and Gabe had Raphael's blade in his hand. He stabbed Raguel in the back with it. That wouldn't kill him, of course, but it should slow him down a little. Give the bastard something else to think about. "THAT'S for threatening Paul, and my little Kitten, too," Gabriel snarled, twisting the knife. It was a pity it wasn't his own blade, though. If it had been, it would probably have been enough.

Then, Gail appeared. She had been waiting in the museum, watching from the window. Cas had instructed her to stay put, but when she'd seen Raguel blast Cas like that, she hadn't been able to help herself. She could see that Cas was slowly picking himself up from the dirt now, so she knew that he was all right. But Raguel was still alive. So, as Raguel reached behind him and tried to repel Gabriel, Gail rushed forward, slashing at the Archangel with her blade, too.

The two-pronged attack on Raguel gave Cas a chance to recover. He popped over to where the Archangels and Gail were, and he grabbed the jawbone, which was still protruding from Raguel's chest. Cas twisted it again, driving it in even deeper.

Raguel was trying to fight all three of them now, but his power and strength were ebbing. He was flailing his arms wildly, but he was so weak now from the Righteous properties of the jawbone still stuck deeply in his thorax that his attempted salvos felt like little more than mild electric shocks. He managed to repel Gail and she fell to the ground, and she landed with an "Oof" sound. Cas looked down at her with concern, but she shouted, "Keep going! Don't let up!"

"Let's finish this, Cas," Gabriel said grimly. He stabbed Raguel again, and the evil Archangel sank to his knees. Cas went down with him, not letting go of the jawbone. Raguel was not going to be given the opportunity to recover.

"Why are you doing this, my Brothers?" Raguel gasped, and Castiel and Gabriel exchanged quick glances. Was he kidding with this? He actually sounded bewildered.

"You don't get to call us 'Brothers'," Gabriel said angrily. "You're a piece of garbage, whose time has ended."

"We could accomplish so much together," Raguel tried again. "United, as Brothers, we could wipe out Sin, and misery."

"Really? Try telling that to Chuck's widow!" Gail called out, picking herself up from the ground. But, she stayed back from the fray. Her guys seemed to have everything well in hand. She was furious, though. How DARE he?

Cas felt the same way. "So, we'll eliminate Sin, will we? Well, what would you call killing one of your own, when that act was completely unnecessary to achieve your goal? Do you consider that to be acceptable behaviour?" he said angrily.

Raguel was dying, but there was still enough strength in him for him to laugh. "You're a fine one to talk about acceptable behaviour," he scoffed. His hands were gripping Cas's upper arms now, but Cas felt no pain. "You have always made poor decisions, throughout your entire existence. You tend to believe what you want to believe, rather than what is actually true. I fell victim to that myself, here with you. The very idea of someone like you having high standing in Heaven is a joke. I hope that Father does allow you to find the Book of Life. I truly do. And, when you use it for your own selfish purposes, I hope our Father will destroy you with it."

"You talk too much," Gabriel said to Raguel. "You're worse than Crowley. You'll have to say hi to him for us, when you get there. He loves Archangels," he added sarcastically. He grabbed Raguel by the hair and pulled his head back, slashing the Archangel's throat with Raphael's blade. The blood gushed out of Raguel's vessel immediately, covering Cas. But still, Cas didn't let go. He was beyond furious now, mainly because everything that Raguel had said was right. He twisted the jawbone again and scooped Raguel's heart out of his chest with the mandible.

"Well, well, what do you know? He DOES have one," Gabriel quipped grimly. "Or, he did, anyway."

"Go ahead, Brother. You do the honours," Cas said to his Archangel friend.

"And I didn't get anything for you," Gabe said with the darkest of good humour. He thrust Raphael's blade through the organ that Cas was holding aloft. As soon as he'd pierced it, the heart turned to ash, and so did Raguel's body.

The Angels were silent for a moment. Then Gabriel snapped his fingers, and a strange-looking box appeared in his hand. The lid opened by itself, and when Gabriel waved his other hand, Raguel's ashes poured themselves into the box.

"Be right back," Gabe told Cas and Gail. "Don't start the victory party without me." Then he snapped his fingers again and disappeared.

Cas was panting from his exertions now. He had known that killing an entity like Raguel was not going to be easy, but his muscles were sore from the constant pressure he'd been applying with the weapon, and the adrenaline from the rage he had felt while wielding it was beginning to wear off now.

Suddenly, the jawbone disintegrated. The bone was reduced to a fine powder that a gust of wind came along and blew out of Cas's hand. He wasn't particularly surprised. Still, it was a shame. It would have been good to have had such a formidable weapon at his disposal.

He walked over to where Gail was standing, taking her in his arms. "Are you all right, my love?" he asked his wife, holding her and kissing her tenderly.

"I'm fine, Cas," she told him. "How about you?"

"Yes," Cas replied. He tilted her face up to look at his. "I instructed you to stay inside," he said to her, trying to be stern.

"Did you?" she said, affecting an innocent expression.

Cas smiled. He couldn't help it. What he'd said to Raguel had been nearly all lies, of course, but he'd meant what he'd said about Gail. Cas had meant every complimentary thing he had said about her. She loved with all her heart, and she fought tenaciously. He should have known that she would be unable to stay away. He couldn't have asked their Father for a better match.

The whole thing had been a setup, of course. Cas had come up with the idea, and it had been a stroke of brilliance. That entire "fight" they'd had with Bobby, and with each other, had all been just an act. They'd had to make sure the confrontation would be talked about widely in Heaven. Cas had firmly believed that Raguel would be tuned in to Angel Radio. If you had a direct line of communication to the other camp, why would you not utilize it? They had scripted the conversation to make it sound as if Cas was ripe for rebellion, ready to throw in with Raguel. He'd been fairly sure that the Archangel would fall for it, if given enough reason to believe. At the very least, Cas had needed to lure him to a meeting so that he could use the jawbone. And since he'd needed to get close enough to Raguel to stick the weapon in his chest, Cas had said all of those things to foster the Archangel's trust, and then had produced a copy of the riddle for Raguel to look at. As soon as he had bade Castiel to come closer with it, Raguel's fate had been sealed. It had been prearranged that Gabriel would attack Raguel from behind once Castiel had struck the first blow, and then Gail's sudden appearance had distracted the injured Archangel even more, enabling the men to finish him.

Cas kissed Gail again. "Promise me you'll never change, my darling. I love you just as you are."

"I love you too, Cas," she replied.

Gabriel popped back to the field, dusting off his hands. He grinned when he saw the couple. "I told you not to start the party without me," he joked.

"Where did you go?" Gail asked him curiously.

"I took old Rags to the Obsidian Galaxy, and released him into the black," Gabriel said proudly.

"You could have just taken him to Uranus," Gail quipped. "He would have felt right at home, there."

Gabe giggled, sounding almost like his fiancee for a moment. "You're all right, my Kitten," he said, nodding in approval of her joke. "Just like one of the guys."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to decide if I should be complimented by that, or insulted. But, in the meantime..."

Gail waved her hands over Cas, cleaning all the blood from him. It was a little bit funny, but mostly pathetic, that they had gotten to the point where they could kiss and embrace each other without even noticing something like that. But Gail had been about to suggest that all three of them go into the museum, so they needed to be cleaned up for that. She cleaned herself, and then motioned to Gabriel. As he came to where she was standing, making quips about her putting her hands all over him, Gail said to Cas, "You're not going to believe who I saw, when I was in the museum. Or, maybe you will."

Cas thought for a moment. He was aware that Ibrahim was dead. Just one more of Raguel's unnecessary murders. Then, he came up with it: "Stu?"

Gail nodded. "Who's that?" Gabriel wanted to know. The couple explained about having met the numerology buff here before. "I thought, since the riddle refers to numbers, it might be something he could help us with," Gail added.

Cas was impressed. She could very well be right. "That was very good thinking, my love," he said to her.

Gail smiled at her husband. "Well, I figured it couldn't hurt to ask him about it." Then she looked at Gabriel again. "There. All clean."

"Are you sure?" he asked her, waggling an eyebrow. "I think I might have some sand down my pants."

Gail shook her head slowly, smirking. "Sorry; that's officially out of my jurisdiction," she told him. "Get Liz to break out the dustbuster, when you get back."

Gabriel's lips twitched so furiously at that one that it looked like they were in danger of sliding right off his face. "I have so many jokes running around in my head right now..." he told her. "You don't even want to know."

"You're right about that," Gail responded, laughing. She tucked one of her hands in the crook of Cas's arm, and the other in Gabe's. "Come on, you guys. Let's go see a man about a riddle."

"'It's one in one, three in two, and two in four'," Stu read aloud. His forehead wrinkled. "Hmmm. If the preposition was 'and', or 'plus', then we could add the numbers together, and get something to work with. But, this? I don't have any idea what this could mean."

Gail sighed. Oh, well. It had been worth a shot. She'd been just about to suggest that they leave when Cas looked at Stu and blurted out, "What would you make of the numbers 616?"

Gabriel looked at him sharply, but Gail had no idea what her husband was referring to. Stu was looking at Cas coolly. The last time this guy and his wife had been here with two other, taller guys, Cas had been a bit of an ass to him. He'd basically dismissed Stu's life's work as so much hokum. But now here he was, asking Stu for his opinion. His professional opinion.

Stu smiled, puffing out his chest a little. "I need a context," he told them. "What's that number from? What's the origin?"

"It's the Mark of the Beast of the Apocalypse," Cas replied bluntly.

Stu regarded him. "That's 666."

"No, it isn't," Gabriel chimed in. "The Bible got it wrong. Most versions, anyway. Think of a typo, on a document. If the original has a mistake, the copies will, too. It appears as 616 in one of the uncial codices. That's the true number."

Gail was looking at the Archangel, open-mouthed. He grinned at her. "Hey, even the class clown picks up a little knowledge from time to time," Gabe said, shrugging.

Stu thought for a moment. "Okie-dokie," he said slowly. "There are a couple of different interpretations which could be placed on a number like that. First of all, it's a bookend, or sandwich, number. Some would read the sixes on either end as representing the Lovers' Tarot card. On the one side is your wife, and on the other side is you. The number 1 would represent something that's between you. That particular numeral, if it's referring to a person, usually represents a leader; someone who's very charismatic. This person will either bond you, or tear you apart."

Gail's heart sank. Great. But, who was this person that Stu was talking about, and what did that have to do with the Beast of the Apocalypse?

Stu went on, "The number 6 in general usually represents connection, union, love, and taking responsibility for your choices."

Gail breathed easier now. That didn't sound too bad to her, after all. Now it was Cas who looked uneasy. He was thinking about what Raguel had said just before he'd died.

"The number 1 itself is a powerful number," Stu continued. "It represents new beginnings, and self-reliance. The Lovers tend to create their own reality within the framework of their relationship, for better or for worse. And when you add all three numbers together, you get a 4, which is a numeral that represents making things happen. There are other, religious, connotations and interpretations, as well."

"And what are those?" Cas asked him sharply.

"Repeating numerical patterns are called 'Angel numbers'," Stu told them. "Those are usually two digits that appear together, like 11, or 22. In this case, the 'Angels' have a dominant, egotistical personality in their lives, who will cause them nothing but trouble. In the Bible, the number 6 represents man and human weakness, the evils of Satan, and the manifestation of sin."

Gail, Cas and Gabriel were all looking at each other now. What the hell? They certainly hadn't expected to hear anything like that. Suddenly, they were at one of Dad's remedial detention classes, Gabe said to Cas over their frequency, and Cas nodded, his lips twitching briefly. Gail had heard that too, because Gabriel had let her in. Even though she hadn't been there at the time, for an instant, she could picture it very clearly, as if she had been. She really wished she had. Cas, the dreamer. The woolgatherer, made to take extra lessons because his head had been a million miles away during class. Maybe he'd been daydreaming about meeting his future wife, and going on epic quests with her. Gabriel would be flicking spitballs at the teacher's back when he wasn't looking. Gail smiled as she imagined herself being there with them. Maybe Cas would slip her a note, asking her to meet him after class so they could study together. She would gladly fill him in on everything he'd missed, if it meant she would be able to spend more time with him. Maybe he would take her hand across the table, and they would look into each other's eyes...

"Wait a minute," Stu said suddenly. "Let me see that riddle again?" Cas handed it to him, he read it once more, and then the numerologist laughed. "This isn't a numbers riddle at all!" he exclaimed. "It's the letter 'o'!"

"What?" Cas asked him, startled.

"'It's one in one, three in two, and two in four'," Stu read from the paper. "The first letter in the word 'one', the third letter in the word 'two', and the second letter in the word 'four'. The letter o."

Gail could have whacked herself on the forehead. "He's right! That's got to be it!" she exclaimed. "Thanks, Stu. Thanks a lot."

"Well, we won't take any more of your time," Gabriel said to Stu. "Thanks for the...uh...interesting interpretations."

The Angels walked out of the museum, and when they were out of sight, they popped themselves back to Heaven.

They made a quick visit to Bobby's office to report that Raguel was dead and, as a bonus, they were pretty sure that they had the solution to the first riddle. Bobby complimented them all on doing such a great acting job, and he praised Cas for coming up with the idea in the first place.

"And don't worry, Cas. I'm gonna have a talk with Laurel, and then I'm going to make sure that everybody knows you were only setting Raguel up, not selling us out," Bobby assured him.

They left Bobby's office, and Gail grabbed both of her companions by the hand, popping them both into her own office. "OK, you guys are going to tell me what's going on, right now," Gail insisted.

The men exchanged quick glances. "See? You're doing it again!" she said irritably. "Well, let me tell you something: it ends, right now. Nobody's leaving here until you tell me why you were asking about the Mark of the Beast. When Jody died, I knew there was something going on with you two. But we were all grieving, so I didn't push it. But I'm tired of everybody knowing what's going on besides me. So, take a seat, and get comfortable. Sit."


	5. What Becomes Of The Brokenhearted

Chapter 5 - What Becomes Of The Brokenhearted

Cas had popped over to his office to get Chuck's letter, and Gabriel had been making nervous jokes while he'd been gone. But Gail was in no mood. She was extremely relieved and happy that Raguel was gone, of course, but this secrecy had to end. Cas had realized that his wife was at the end of her patience. He had been trying to shield her, but perhaps the time had come for him to be honest with her, now.

Gail scanned the letter that Cas brought back with him. This was unbelievable. So much that was in it had already come true, so far. Patricia had Chuck's Grace. Chuck had foreseen his own death. Gail's hands were shaking as she read the letter. Now she wanted Raguel alive, just so they could kill him all over again. What gave him the right?

"So, Raguel gave Patricia Chuck's Grace," Gail mused aloud. "I wonder WHY."

Cas paused for a moment. He hadn't really thought about it that way. He'd been so focused on killing Raguel that he had almost forgotten about Patricia. The Archangel would have supplied her with the stolen Grace for a reason, Cas realized. Now that Raguel was dead, what was Patricia going to do?

Gail read the rest of the letter, and her stomach was churning. She was getting a really bad feeling about...well, everything. The roar of a Beast. The Mark of the Beast. The End was coming.

Gabriel sat there quietly. He hadn't really thought that much about the letter since Cas had shown it to him for the first time. But the look of dread on both Gail's and Cas's faces now was contagious.

"What's this about the Beast?" Gail asked the men. "Is it really the Beast of the Apocalypse?"

"Yep," Gabriel said, sitting back against the couch cushions. He looked at Cas. Hey, she was Gabe's Brother's wife, not his. No way was he gonna be the one to tell her. No way, nohow.

"What kind of Beast IS it?" Gail persisted. "Where is it? How do we kill it?"

Cas sighed heavily, bracing himself for her reaction. "The Beast isn't an animal, it's a person," he said hesitantly. He swallowed, hard. "The Beast is Brian."

Gail was silent for a moment, her mouth hanging open. "Oh, come on!" she exclaimed, finally. "Brian? Brian. Sam's baby is the Beast of the Apocalypse."

"And you thought it was just his diapers that were stinky," Gabriel quipped, but Gail glared at him. "Oh, yeah, Gabriel. Real funny," she said sarcastically. "So, you guys are honestly telling me that that baby is..." She trailed off, realizing that might not be quite as far-fetched as it sounded. Gail had told Liz a while back that the baby actually creeped her out, for some reason. There was just something about him...She sighed. "I really hate to admit it, but I believe you," she said, frowning. "The question is, what the hell are we supposed to DO about it?"

Cas was silent; thoughtful. He had no idea. "We have nearly a decade to puzzle that out," he said softly. "As long as the Beast dies before he reaches the age of ten, the destruction can be averted. I think we need to concentrate on finding the Book of Life right now. We still have Vincent to worry about, or perhaps Patricia, to a lesser extent. If we can get the Book, not only are we keeping it out of their hands, but there may be something in it that we can use to solve the puzzle of the Beast."

Gail was looking at her husband's face closely now. "Cas, what did Raguel mean, when he said you were going to use the Book for your own selfish purposes?"

He frowned. "I have no idea."

Gail glanced at Gabriel, but he gave her an uncomfortable half-shrug. What was she looking at HIM for? It was her husband who was the problem. But if Cas knew what was good for him, he wouldn't screw around, this time. Their Father didn't take kindly to disobedience. Gabriel and Castiel had both learned some hard lessons about that. Oh, well. Gabe loved his Brother, but: better Cas than him. Gabriel had a beautiful, buxom, blonde fiancee now, and the two of them had a wedding to plan.

"Well, I'll be going, now," Gabriel said to the couple. "I'm going over to see Liz. We've gotta start planning the wedding."

Cas was bemused. If anyone had ever tried to tell him that Gabriel, of all people, would be this excited about his own nuptials, Castiel would have accused that person of being wildly imaginative, to say the least. On the surface, Gabriel and monogamy would seem like an ill fit. But there was more to Gabriel than his shallow reputation would suggest. Like Cas, the Archangel had a huge heart, and a great capacity to love. But Gabriel also had a capricious and suspicious nature. An Angel like him would never have been able to keep watch over the Winchesters all this time, as Cas had.

"Tell Liz if she's still interested, she and I should get together soon, and brainstorm some ideas," Gail said to Gabriel.

"Sure. I'll tell her that," Gabriel confirmed, nodding. Then he disappeared.

Cas was smiling now. "Another wedding to look forward to, Raguel is finally dead, and we've solved the first riddle. I would say that qualifies as a good day, wouldn't you?"

Gail sighed. She supposed he was right. But what were they supposed to do about Patricia, and Sam's baby? Then, she checked herself. They'd had a significant victory today. Maybe she should just focus on that, for a minute. "Hey, I haven't read my love note for the day, yet," she told Cas brightly. She rose from the couch and went over to her desk. She'd decided in the end to toss them all in a drawer or two, and then just pick one at random every day.

She went into what she'd taken to calling the "Getting Lucky" drawer, and pulled out a piece of paper. "Oooh, here's a good one." Gail looked at her husband, smiling mischievously. "'I love the way you let me undress you'." She made a fanning motion with her hand. "Wow. That's sexy. Remember, I mentioned that I would be interested in acting some of these out, when we have time?"

Cas got to his feet. "Yes, I do," he responded, returning her smile. He reached for her hand.

As it had turned out, both of them had really enjoyed acting out that particular note. Cas really did like to undress her, and she loved it when he did, because he paid careful attention to every part of her that he was uncovering. Then, when he was making her too crazy by going so slow, she would usually direct his hand or his head to where she wanted it to be. And Cas loved that, because he knew that she would be made the most happy that way.

But many times, he would switch it up, and she would go with what he was doing because it all felt so wonderful. Right now, she was laying with her back to him, and he was spooning her. He was lazily caressing her hip and rear end with one hand. Then, as his hand moved between her legs, she opened them wider. His hand slipped in between, and he entered her with one finger. She made a sound which encouraged him to add another. He started to move them in and out, and he brushed her hair away from the side of her face with his free hand, speaking terms of endearment into her ear in a low voice.

Gail smiled, and she wriggled against him. Cas's hand moved faster, and he nudged her with the lower part of his body. She opened up a little further and he pushed himself into her, slowly at first. She grabbed his hand, and he knew what she was looking for. So he began to move faster, stroking her with his fingers. "I love you," he breathed, licking her ear.

She moaned his name, moving backwards against him so that she could feel him going deeper into her. This was Cas's best feeling, when the two of them were moving as one. He was Gail, and she was him, and there was no trouble, no heartache, that they couldn't overcome, as long as they were together.

When they were resting, Cas kissed Gail on her forehead and said, "I was very proud of you today. Sometimes, I still forget that you are an equal partner to me. I'm sorry, my love. I should have shared the Prophecies and the news about Brian with you much earlier. But Gabriel and I were off looking for Raguel, and then Jody died, and then Tommy..." Cas's voice broke. Everything still hurt, so much. There was more than enough misery to go around, and there would be even more to come. There were still some Prophecies that were as yet unfulfilled, and there was still the not inconsiderable matter of Sam's son.

"I am hoping that when we find the Book of Life, it may shed some light on the subject of the Beast," Cas told Gail now.

"What if it doesn't?" she asked him.

Cas sighed. "I'm afraid you know the answer to that. Then, the child must die."

Gail's heart sank. How in the hell were they supposed to kill a little child? Even ignoring for the moment that Brian was the son of one of their very best friends, how were they supposed to murder a baby? Cas had said that they had until Brian was a decade old to figure out what to do about him, but still...Wouldn't it almost be better, relatively speaking, to take care of things now? At least Brian was only an infant. He couldn't walk or talk, yet. He probably didn't even have any cognitive function, really. The longer they waited, the more Sam would become attached to the boy. Wow. Gail shuddered at her thought process. Was she sure that SHE wasn't the Beast? Was she seriously thinking about the murder of a little baby in terms of a logical equasion?

She expressed this thought to Cas now, and he nodded. "I know, my darling," he said soberly. "It's a terrible thing to even contemplate. But those are the types of responsibilities that the Father confers upon us, sometimes."

Gail kissed her husband softly on the cheek. It occurred to her now that he'd probably had to make quite a few tough calls like that, over the years. What they were discussing was certainly monstrous, but, considering what the baby was, wouldn't letting it live be the far worse scenario?

"We will not have to do the actual killing, although we may have to assist the one who is supposed to do it," Cas went on. He explained what he knew about Josiah, and Gabriel's blade.

"So THAT'S where his blade is?!" Gail exclaimed.

"Yes," Cas confirmed, giving her a gentle squeeze. "We will have to locate this boy at some point, to see if he needs to be educated, beforehand. We should also find out who the owner of the blade is that is locked up in my office. But, as we've said, we still have almost ten years to resolve the problem of the Beast. Hopefully, our acquisition of the Book will render the point moot. Also, I think that we should begin tracking down some of Vincent's children. We still have quite a number of missions to accomplish, don't we, my love?"

"And, a wedding to look forward to," Gail said, snuggling against him. "I'm excited about standing up with them. I'll get a new dress, and you should get a new suit, too. I've always loved seeing you in a nice suit."

Cas smiled. That would be wonderful. He was curious about what sort of wedding Gabriel would want to have. Knowing his Brother, they could expect pretty much anything. Unless Gabriel left the planning up to Liz, which would probably be the safer and more tasteful option. Cas said this to his wife now, and she laughed, and laughed.

"Actually, we should probably just get you and Liz to plan it," Gail told him with a smile. "That's just one of the many things you're good at." Then she slipped her hand under the bedsheet. "Now, how about we do one of the other things you're really good at, and then we'll have our showers?"

She'd gotten his attention now, with the way that she was touching him. Her hand was so soft. Cas felt a flutter in his stomach. "Come here. Please," he said, gesturing.

"What if I say no?" she said teasingly. "What if I tell you that I want you to just lay still?"

"I can't make any promises," Cas said non-committally.

So she moved down, and made love to him for a couple of minutes. But, predictably enough, when he became too excited, he reached down and lifted her body on top of his, positioning her so that he could make love to her, too. Cas was always happiest when he could hear and feel that he was making her happy, also.

When the two of them were cuddling again, Cas's cell phone rang. He reached over to the nightstand to pick it up. "It's Kevin," he told Gail, upon checking the Call Display.

Kevin had news. Bobby had finally excavated the red file on the Book of Life, he'd said with a touch of humour, and God had taken it to Kevin's and Emma's office, because the second page of the file was written entirely in Enochian.

"Geez, it's a good thing we got that Glossary of Metatron's, though," Kevin said to Cas now. "Some of the phrases have been really tough to figure out, even without it."

"We'll be there in a few minutes," Cas said eagerly.

He and Gail showered and dressed quickly, and when they walked into the young Angels' office, Kevin looked relieved. "It's really good to see you guys," he said to the couple. "Bobby told us that what we heard coming from his office was just a setup. Way to go, Cas. Some of the other Angels were worried. But I knew you would never sell us out like that."

Emma's eyebrows rose, and she looked at Kevin over the rim of her glasses. That wasn't exactly what Kevin had said when he'd gotten back from Bobby's office, after the so-called fight. But, for a change, she kept her mouth shut. Emma was beginning to learn a thing or two about discretion. Even though she and Kevin would never get older chronologically, they still had the capacity to become more mature.

"What do you have?" Cas asked the young Angels.

Kevin showed him the page of the file that he and Emma had been working on. "Even with Metatron's Glossary, it's going to take us a while," Kevin advised. "But so far, we've figured out that the location of each riddle will be a place of significance to that particular individual. Like, you guys found Metatron's in his office. Sorry, Gail, but you know what I mean."

Gail waved her hand absently. "What I'm curious about is where the red file's been, all this time," she said.

"Apparently, it was in Bobby's back credenza," Emma advised. "He said that Laurel gave him a pile of files to go through a while ago, but with everything that's been going on, he didn't have the chance to look at them."

Cas shook his head slowly. Unbelievable. The file had been under their noses this whole time? But he couldn't say too much about it, really, could he? When he himself had held the Office, he had had a bad habit of shirking the paperwork, too. Besides, now they had Metatron's Glossary of Enochian terms, which had helped them to translate the contents of the file, anyway. Finally, things seemed to be going their way.

"How is Laurel?" Gail asked the young Angels now.

Kevin shrugged. "I guess she's OK, considering. I know my mom and Paul and Karen and Ethan have been trying to invite her over to make sure she's not alone, but she keeps on turning them down. Bobby said she works a lot. But I guess it's hard for her to be around people, especially married couples."

"That's very insightful of you, Kevin," Cas remarked. He was looking at the red file, comparing it with the notes that Kevin had given him to look at. "This is very impressive work," Cas remarked.

Emma smiled. She liked Cas. He took care of business, but he also took the time to say stuff like that, every once in a while. "Thanks," she said brightly, "but I told Kevin we've got a lot more work to do. We have to take all those new words and phrases, and look at those Tablet writings again, don't we?" She looked up at Kevin, and in that moment, Gail was so reminded of her and Cas that she had to avert her head to keep them from seeing her grin.

"Fine. Let us know if you uncover anything of significance," Cas said, and he took Gail's hand. "Can you please send the pages of the Glossary and the pages of the red file to Sam, via computer? I think we could benefit from his knowledge, as well."

Now, Emma was pouting a bit. Didn't Cas think that she and Kevin were smart enough to do all the necessary translations? But Kevin was nodding. "I already did," the young Angel confirmed. "But don't tell anybody, OK? Since it's Sam, I'm pretty sure Bobby wouldn't care, but, strictly speaking, the red files are Top Secret, right?"

Cas gave a half-shrug. He knew that, of course, but he agreed with Kevin: Bobby wasn't going to mind one bit. The more people they had working on these riddles, the better. "Well, we'll be going now - " Cas started to say, but then Gail said, "Wait a second." She let go of Cas's hand. "Kevin, I'd like to talk to you for a minute. Just you and me," Gail said to their friend. "Could you come with me to my office, for a minute?"

Kevin looked surprised, and Cas was looking at his wife with a raised eyebrow, now. But she simply looked back at him, saying nothing. Let HIM see how it felt to be out of the loop, for a change. "We'll be right back, sweetie," Gail said, popping out. A somewhat confused Kevin followed, a moment later.

Cas and Emma were looking at each other, in a slightly uncomfortable silence. She wondered if he knew what she'd been thinking a moment ago. Everybody said that Cas was pretty sensitive when it came to Angels making comments about Sam and Dean, so she figured she'd better not say anything, in case he took it the wrong way. Emma guessed that she liked Sam Winchester fine, but there was no way that he was smarter than her and Kevin, combined. No way.

But Cas was still looking at her, and Emma felt like she had to say something, so she pushed her glasses against the bridge of her nose and said, "Did you know that Leonardo da Vinci made a sketch for contact lenses, back in the 15th Century?"

He was nonplussed for a moment, but then Cas recovered enough to say, "No, but that doesn't particularly surprise me, either," he remarked. "He was a very intelligent and creative individual."

While Emma was trying to work up the courage to decide if she wanted to ask Cas if he had first-hand knowledge on the subject of Leonardo da Vinci, Kevin was looking around Gail's office. Bobby had repaired the wall where the hidden compartment had been found, of course, but Kevin could just picture Metatron making the secret compartment and hiding those valuable things in it, so that nobody would ever find them. Maybe even laughing maniacally and rubbing his hands together with glee, while he was doing it. Of course, Cas and Gail were convinced that Metatron had been a decent guy, when he'd died helping them to defeat Lucifer in Madagascar, so Kevin supposed that they would know best. And the Scribe had never used that jawbone against anybody, had he? What a weird turn of events that whole thing had been.

Gail had been quiet up until this point, trying to figure out how to frame the question that she wanted to ask him. But then she thought: the hell with it. "Are you still a Prophet, Kevin?" she asked him.

His face clouded. "Sure, I guess so. Why?"

She gazed at him. "'Why'? Really, Kevin? Are you really going to try to pull that with me, after all the years we've known each other? I thought we were better friends than that."

Kevin was extremely uncomfortable now. "Even if I am, and even if we are, I don't have any information for you, Gail. Don't you think I would tell you, if I saw something you needed to know?"

"Maybe not, if you thought that it would hurt our feelings," she persisted. "Do you know where Jody went, Kevin?"

Her question shouldn't have surprised the young Angel, not in the least. But really, with everything that was about to happen, it had surprised him a great deal. They had all been wondering that same thing, ever since Bobby had advised that Jody wasn't in the Garden. So Kevin had actually sat down, closed his eyes, and concentrated on the subject, trying to have a vision. But as they all knew by now, it didn't necessarily work like that. Well, very rarely, anyway. Maybe Chuck had foreseen his own death, but Kevin was sure that his friend hadn't really been trying to see that, at the time. He wondered if Chuck had even been trying to see anything at all. Probably not. Different Prophets had different styles. Chuck had always been more of an accidental type of Prophet, for lack of a better term. Except for the time he'd been writing his books all those years ago, Chuck had told Kevin that things had just come to him unexpectedly, in flashes, and fragments of visions. Kevin was pretty much the opposite. He could usually come up with information on a specific topic, if he really concentrated. But when he'd tried to figure out where Jody had gone...nothing. Not even a glimpse.

So he'd tried again, subsequent to that occasion, and he had left his mind completely blank, that time. Like an empty vessel, just waiting to be filled with...something. And he'd seen a couple of disjointed images, which didn't seem to have anything to do with anything. Becky giving Brian a bottle, making sure that he drank every drop. That whole thing had been so weird. Who would have ever imagined that Becky and Sam would have had a baby together, and that Becky would turn out to be a loving, doting mother? As far as Kevin was concerned, the only person Becky loved was herself. She thought that she loved Sam, but Kevin didn't actually think she did. He just thought that she was obsessed with him. Becky had spent all of those years trying to get with Sam, invested so much time and trouble in him, so much so that Sam was like one of Cas and Gail's missions to Becky, now. She'd even had a baby for Sam. It was really none of Kevin's business, though, was it? It was strange that he'd seen Becky in his vision at all, because he never thought about her any more.

And the other thing Kevin had seen was an older man in a nice suit, speaking in French to another man, who was in some kind of a military-looking uniform. Kevin knew a few words and phrases of French because he'd become a bit of a language buff, and he swore that the man had said something about tattoos. But, so what? Two men talking about tattoos wasn't exactly earth-shattering news, was it?

So Kevin told Gail he didn't know anything about anything, and that was the truth, at least from his point of view. Because Kevin didn't know that Becky's baby was the Beast, and he also didn't know that Benoit Levesque's plan for the Fourth Reich was humming along very nicely.

Gail thanked their young friend for his efforts, and an instant later, she and Cas were heading to the bunker.

Sam and Dean and Frank were all sitting around the library table having a drink when the Angels got there. Gail was delighted to see her brother. She rushed over to Frank and threw her arms around him, kissing him on the cheek.

"OK, OK, quit slobbering all over me," he said good-naturedly.

"How are you, Frank?" Cas asked his brother-in-law.

"I'm OK, Cas," Frank replied. "Let me guess: you're here to pick our brains."

"I have so many jokes I could make about that statement that I'm literally in pain right now," Gail teased Frank. She poked him. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be working? Or did they impeach you, already?"

"OK, first of all, why are you always poking me?" he asked his sister. "And, second, you don't 'impeach' civic employees. And, third, I'm on vacation. That's a thing you get to take a couple of times a year, when you have a real job. I know none of you would really know anything about that."

"Hey!" Dean objected. "We invite you into our house, we give you something to drink, and you wanna 'dis' us like that?"

Frank grinned. "You didn't invite me; I just showed up. And I brought the beer. And, I don't think anybody's said 'dis' since way before my hair started going grey."

"What there is left of it, anyway," Sam joked with a sly grin.

"Hey, not all of us can be Fabio, you know," Frank retorted.

"What's with all of these dated references, all of a sudden?" Gail asked her brother as Cas pulled out her usual chair for her. He sat in his, beside her.

"I don't know." Frank sighed. "I guess I'm just feeling nostalgic for the days when people used to give a damn. This vacation couldn't have come at a better time, because I was starting to lose it, at work."

"Why? What's going on at City Hall?" Sam inquired.

"A lot of things," Frank groused. "I don't know what's happening to our society, these days. I really don't. Like, the other day, we had an open meeting, so that members of the public can come in and share any ideas they might have about civic improvements. You know, social programs, and stuff like that. We don't have a huge budget, but if an idea's got merit, it should be considered, right? And, yeah, some of these people are crackpots. There was one lady who thought that coffee shops should just give free coffee to anyone who asks for it, and we had a guy who wanted all the government buildings painted red, so that they would stand out. But, the day before I was due to leave for my holiday, we had this guy who was making a proposal that I actually thought had a lot of merit. His grandma hangs around the seniors' centre with a bunch of old biddies, mainly because they don't really have any other place to go, and nothing much to do, when they get there. This guy said that these ladies could be given a small budget for knitting needles, thread, and materials, and they could make clothes for babies, while they're sitting around talking."

"An old ladies' sweat shop? Awesome," Dean said sarcastically.

Frank frowned. "I know you think you're being funny, but just think about it, for a minute. These old ladies know how to make good quality clothes, because they used to do it for their own families, back in the days when everything didn't fall apart after you've worn it twice. They volunteered to do it, because they want to be productive, and because they want to help poor families. Maybe if some of those people didn't have to spend as much money on clothes that their kids are just gonna outgrow in a few weeks, they'd be able to spend more money on healthier foods for their kids, instead of the cheap crap they end up buying, because it's less expensive. It's a little thing, maybe, but it could end up making a big difference in those families' lives, and in the seniors', too."

"You know, when you put it that way, it sounds great," Gail enthused. "But, I get the feeling you're going to tell us the proposal was declined."

"Turns out we never got to vote on it," Frank said, still frowning. "The guy got up to speak in front of us, and he was wearing striped pants, a checked shirt, and a bowtie, with polka dots on it. Hey, I admit that I was trying not to laugh. He looked like such a Poindexter. I had to bite my cheeks to stop myself from asking him how dark the room actually WAS, where he got dressed every day. But then, it got even worse: when he started to talk, he stuttered. And I'm not talking about just a little bit, either. The poor guy had everything going against him. I guess he's one of those kinds of guys who doesn't really get out too much, and when he does, he's not used to talking to so many people at once. Anyway, by the time I figured out what he was suggesting, I'd kind of forgotten about what he looked like, because I was concentrating on the idea, instead. But a few of my, uh...let's call them colleagues, just to be diplomatic...were so busy mocking and belittling the guy that he started getting more and more nervous, and then, his stutter got even worse. Then, they got so impatient with him that they said his time was up, and he scurried out of there like his bowtie was on fire, or something. So, after we adjourned and we were discussing which of the ideas we'd just heard had merit, they dismissed the poor schmo's suggestion out of hand. And then, they started in on him. Look, I admit I'm not the most mature guy in the world. But, here was a guy who'd had a good idea, something that would benefit a bunch of our constituents while costing less than our coffee budget for a week, and those yahoos were acting like a bunch of schoolyard bullies. So I pointed to one of those rah-rah posters on the wall. You know, the ones that say how politically correct we are? Like, Zero Tolerance for pretty much anything. 'Words can hurt, so watch what you say', or some b.s. like that. Clearly, these people have never looked up the word 'irony' in the dictionary. Or, 'hypocrite', either. They practically chased that guy out of the room without even considering his idea, and they were all but slapping themselves on the backs about it in that conference room. So I said they should all either start practicing what they preach, or roll those posters up, and smoke them. And boy, oh boy, did I come close to suggesting something else they should do with those posters once they'd rolled them up, instead."

"Why didn't you?" Dean asked him, taking a swig of his beer.

Frank smirked. "Because, we have Zero Tolerance for threats in the workplace, too. So they all looked at me like I was green with three heads, and then I could see the looks on their faces change, when they remembered that I was a grieving widower. Which has nothing to do with anything, but I'm not above taking advantage, if I have to. So I said that I was just really tired, and maybe I'd better take a few days off. Because, man, if I'd stayed there a few minutes longer..."

Everyone was silent for a moment. They all knew that these kinds of things happened pretty much everywhere, even in places that claimed they were above those kinds of things.

"I have an idea," Cas piped up. "We have a seniors' centre in Heaven, and many of those ladies need ways to fill their days, as well. This way, the children could still get the clothing, and it wouldn't cost the city anything. I'll see if Leah wants to coordinate the project. She's an excellent seamstress. Why don't you see if you can contact the gentleman who broached the idea, Frank? Maybe he would like to coordinate the project on this end."

Frank looked at his brother-in-law for a moment. Then he lifted his beer bottle in salute. "You know what, Cas? You're one hell of a guy."

Cas smiled. "Well, seeing as I'm an Angel, we may want to put that another way," he quipped lightly. "But, I appreciate the sentiment, Frank."

Gail's brother was pleased that Cas had come up with that idea, which he thought was a really good one. But he was still disturbed. "I don't know; maybe I'm just getting old," he went on, "but it seems like there's no such thing as common decency any more, no matter where you are. Did you see what that asshat who runs France is doing now? He's got the borders clamped down over there, saying he's gonna eliminate terrorism. And that sounds like it's a good thing, until you realize that he's talking about racial profiling. But apparently, the guy's really popular, so I guess he can do what he wants." Frank sighed again. "Or, maybe I'm just a grumpy old man, who needs to mind my own business. We have enough problems in our own government, without worrying about other ones." He drained his beer. "But, hey, on the bright side, Angela's going to school in a month. So, that'll be an adventure. I can't wait till she brings home her first report card, and they see how smart she is. I might have to have the thing laminated."

They all smiled. Frank was definitely right on that score. Angela was one smart little cookie. She would probably be able to help the teacher teach her classmates, Sam thought with a grin. He got up from his chair to get some more beer from the kitchen fridge.

"Has anybody talked to Barry lately?" Gail asked the men. "Cas and I went there last week, and he said the trial was going to be soon."

"There WAS no trial," Dean told her. "The guy who killed Tommy pled guilty, and they sentenced him to five years, for manslaughter."

"Five years?! That's all?" Gail said, astonished.

"That's what I said," Dean remarked, frowning. "But I guess the judge was impressed that he admitted to everything, and he was gonna testify against the other guy, the one who helped him. They said he was remorseful, and that he was still young. So Barry said that he and Carolyn and Mike sat there in the front row with Peter and little Ilene, and when the guy saw them all, he bawled like a baby. Said he's gonna do community service after his sentence. Go around to all the schools and tell the kids his story."

"There was a time, not so long ago, that men of his ilk would have been put to death for such a cowardly killing," Cas growled, "young, or not."

That made them all silent again. Sam came back with the beers, and he looked around at everyone's faces. Sensing a change of subject was in order, he said, "So...one riddle down and four to go, right?"

Cas brightened. "Yes. Did you get the information from Kevin? I was hoping that we could brainstorm some ideas as to where the other riddles might be. They're supposed to be in locations that are significant to us."

Dean smirked. "Have you two checked each other's lips?"

Gail gave him a baleful look, but then, the elder Winchester's face broke into a toothy grin, making her laugh. Dammit.

Sam was laughing, too, and because he was, he set the opened beer bottles down haphazardly on the table. Dean's tipped over, and the beer ran across the table to where Cas was sitting. He got up quickly from his chair in order to avoid having cold beer spill in his lap, and in doing so, his hand snagged the arm of his chair and knocked it on its side.

"That does it; you're cut off, Cas," Frank quipped.

Sam rushed over to the alcove to grab a couple of paper towels, as Dean righted the spilled bottle. He peered at it and then swapped it with Sam's full bottle as Frank smirked.

But Gail was looking at Cas's chair now, or rather, at the underside of it. "What's that?" she asked, puzzled.

"What's WHAT?" Sam asked her, returning to the table to mop up the spill.

"This." Gail got off her own seat and bent down to the underside of Cas's chair. No way. It couldn't be. There was a piece of paper tucked in-between the wooden X-shaped slats. She pulled it out, and sure enough, it was a piece of parchment, just like the one Metatron's riddle was written on.

"Sweetie," Cas's wife said to him, open-mouthed. The parchment had his name on it. The chair Cas sat in, every single time he came here. The chair he'd sat in the night that they'd met.

Cas came to where she was, rising to her feet now. She put the parchment in his hand as the two of them looked at each other, smiling. Of course. Of course his riddle would be here. Castiel had existed for aeons, but the bunker was where his life had truly begun.

"Get outta here," Dean said softly. "Are you guys seriously trying to tell us that thing's been there this whole time?"

"OK, the first thing you've gotta do is get a new maid service," Frank wisecracked.

Cas turned the paper over, to look at what was written on it. "'It's the first of all, and the shortest of its kind'," he read aloud.

They all started to brainstorm as Cas righted the chair gently, almost reverently. Just when he'd thought that the Father had abandoned them, the picture was finally coming into focus. Praise Be.

"'The first of all'," Sam mused aloud. "That sounds like the Beginning. Creation, maybe?"

"Yes, but 'the shortest of its kind'?" Gail puzzled. "What does THAT sound like?"

"You," Frank said, smirking. But as his sister made The Face, he went on, "It just so happens that I think I know the answer. It's 'a'."

"'A'?" Cas echoed. He thought about it. "Oh, I see. It's the first letter of the word all, and also of the alphabet. And, it's the shortest word in the English language."

"Sounds right to me," Gail said. She nodded to Frank approvingly. "That was some good thinking, there."

"Hey, I'm not just a pretty face, you know," Frank said with a proud smile.

"You can say THAT again," Sam remarked. He picked up his beer bottle and took a drink from it, and then he peered at it, realizing it was empty. He looked at Dean suspiciously, and his brother looked back at him innocently.

"Great. So we've got, what? Two vowels, a and o. Maybe we don't have to bother looking for the three other riddles. Maybe we should just look in an alphabet soup factory," Gail said dryly.

"We just have to find those three loose vowels," Dean remarked, his lips twitching.

"I think you can get something at the pharmacy for that problem," Frank quipped, and the two men high-fived. "Thanks for the slow pitch over the plate, Winchester," Gail's brother added.

As Gail rolled her eyes, Cas looked calmly at Sam and said, somewhat unexpectedly, "How is Brian?"

Sam was taken aback by the sudden change of subject, but he made a quick recovery. "He's good, Cas. You and Gail should come with me to see him, sometime."

Cas said nothing. He certainly couldn't ask the questions he wanted to ask. He was curious about whether the infant had exhibited any powers yet. But presumably, he had not, or Sam would surely have mentioned it. Look at who they all were.

"Changing the subject again, does anybody besides me think that Gabriel getting married is kind of hilarious?" Frank said.

Cas smiled at that. "I admit that I thought it was a little incongruous at first, but I know that he genuinely loves Liz. I've known Gabriel for a long time, and all jokes aside, certain parts of his reputation are warranted. But there is a lot more substance to him than appears on the surface. He has 'stepped up', as the expression goes, many times for Heaven, since we were reunited."

The Winchesters were silent for a moment. They had to admit that Gabriel's stock had risen a lot since the days when he'd called himself The Trickster. Could ancient beings mature? They were obviously capable of change. Look at how much Cas had evolved since he'd first come into their lives.

"Is there somewhere we can send a gift, or should we just give it to you guys?" Frank asked the Angels.

"No need," Gail assured him. "They're going to have it here on Earth. In the immortal words of Gabriel, Archangel of the Lord, 'We want those poopyheads to be able to come, too.' I'll leave it up to you guys to decide whose head is the poopiest."

Cas's lips twitched briefly. "They're also going to invite Hester, and Barry and Carolyn and the kids. Liz wanted to be sure that everyone who is a member of the extended family was included, as well."

But Frank's heart sank at that. What Cas meant was: everyone who was left of the extended family. Chuck and Tommy would be conspicuously missing, and his own Jody, of course. But it did do his aching heart good to see that they were adhering to her last wishes to keep the family together.

Cas glanced at Gail. "I would like to drop in on Leah for a minute, just to see if she can start to coordinate the project for the children. Do you want to come, my love, or do you want to stay here?"

She regarded him with some surprise. Then, her eyes narrowed a little. Maybe she was paranoid, but now she was wondering: did he want to talk to Leah alone? Was he still hiding something from her?

"No, I think I'll come along, sweetie," she said casually. "I haven't seen the folks in the seniors' centre for a while. Besides, I wanted to stop by and see Liz, and find out if she needs any help with the wedding plans." She got up from her chair and hurried over to the other side of the table to give the guys a hug and a kiss, before Cas could change his mind.

"Hello, My Lord. Hello, Gail. How lovely it is to see the both of you again," Leah said. She had the quilt on her lap. "Please, sit down."

Cas drew up chairs for his wife and himself. He was smiling faintly. He couldn't seem to break Leah of the habit of calling him "my Lord", so he'd given up on trying to gently correct her.

"I've heard that you will be embarking on a quest to find the Book of Life, shortly," Leah said off-handedly. When she saw Cas's startled expression, she smiled. "Liz and Gabriel told me. I trust you won't be angry with them. I know it is a Confidential matter, but I also know that you will obtain the Book. See? I've already done that square." She shifted the quilt to show them. It depicted Cas, holding the book aloft in one hand. But he had a bloody blade in the other, and there was a dead animal by his feet. "What's that? Some kind of animal sacrifice?" Gail asked, peering more closely.

"Why, that is the Beast, dear," Leah said without expression.

Gail was upset now, and she was also confused. The Beast? Wasn't The Beast Brian? But Brian was a human baby, not an actual animal. Cas had said that it was this "Joe" who was supposed to kill him, but that they had time, yet. She looked at him, and he gave her an almost imperceptible shrug.

"Leah, we came to ask you a favour," Cas said to the elderly Angel. He explained about the project to make clothing for needy children, and that he had thought of her immediately, because she was such an accomplished seamstress. Predictably enough, Leah dimpled at the compliment, touching Cas's arm briefly. "Thank you, my Lord," she said. "I think it's very generous of you to think of helping the poor, especially with your busy schedule. You have always cared for those who are less fortunate. I will be very glad to take part, as will many of the other ladies, once I tell them that it is you who has requested their help personally."

"How about some of the men, too?" Gail piped up, and Leah looked at her curiously. "What about them?" the elder Angel inquired.

"Why don't we get some of the men working on the project, too?" Gail persisted.

Cas's lips twitched at the puzzled look on Leah's face. Gail was so cute. In ancient times, no man would have ever picked up a needle and thread. Just as no woman would ever have picked up a weapon and killed an animal for the family's sustenance. Mens' and womens' roles had been very clearly defined, back then.

Deciding that it was Gail who was confused, Leah turned back to Cas. "The Father gave me the inspiration for another square for my quilt. It's about the location of Lucifer's riddle. I hope it makes sense to you, because it did not to me." She shifted the quilt again as Cas and Gail exchanged another glance. Gee, maybe they should just have come here, first. But it felt as if this had all been preordained, now. After all this time, they'd suddenly been put into a metaphorical boat without oars, and the current was picking up.

They looked at the square. It was the simplest one they'd seen Leah do, by far. All it depicted were the letters "REV", with what looked like a desk underneath them.

"The riddle's in his old office, at the TV station," Gail said to her husband. "I'll bet you anything."

Cas nodded. That sounded right to him, too. "Thank you for all your help, Leah," he said to the elderly Angel. "As always. We'll ask Liz to come and see you, to coordinate the clothing project."

"Ask Karen, instead," Leah said succinctly.

"Why?" Cas inquired, puzzled.

"Has Liz not got a wedding to plan?" Leah countered.

Cas smiled. "Yes. Yes, of course. Fair enough," he said, acknowledging her point.

After exchanging pleasantries for a few more minutes, Cas and Gail excused themselves. They popped directly over to the TV studio from where Lucifer's show had been broadcast. It was late in the evening there, and the place was dark and deserted. They popped into the office that had been Lucifer's. Gail lit up her blade with the golden glow and set it on the big oak desk. She looked around the office. Boy, did this place ever bring back some memories, both good, and bad. Which was pretty ironic, actually, considering that when she'd been working for Lucifer here, she'd had no idea who she was.

Cas started at the desk, and Gail looked around the credenza. Was it even possible that the riddle could still be here, after all this time? Sure, it was possible. After all, Cas's had been in the bunker. undiscovered, for even longer. With that fact in the back of his mind, Cas tilted the desk chair, looking underneath it. But there was nothing there.

Just as he was debating whether he should force the locks on the desk, Gail said, "Cas." He looked behind him at her. She was standing between the wall and the credenza, looking down. "Can you bring my blade over here for a second, sweetie? I need more light here," she said to him.

He did, and Gail said, "You're not going to believe this. Just a second." She leaned down, reaching between the credenza and the wall. Her arms were short, but she could...just...feel the edge of a piece of paper. She scissored her fingers and brought it out by her fingertips. Cas brought the blade closer, so that they could see.

It was the riddle. "'None is an island, but there is an isle that is one'," Cas read aloud softly.

Gail smiled. "Got it! Let's go to our house."


	6. Precious Angel

Chapter 6 - Precious Angel

"How do I look?" Cas asked his wife.

She turned around, and as soon as she saw him, she started to laugh. But Cas was frowning now, so she made herself stop.

He was wearing blue jeans, a plain T-shirt, and a checker-patterned flannel shirt on top of that. And, to top it all off, he had on some kind of vest, with pockets, and he was wearing rubber galoshes on his feet. He had a Gilligan-style hat in his hands, but he was regarding it dubiously now. Since Gail was laughing, Cas was wondering if his friends had pulled some kind of prank on him. But Sam and Dean had insisted that this ensemble was what people wore to go fishing.

Cas had never been fishing with a group of other men before, and he'd become even more excited when it was suggested that they make a camping weekend out of it. Gail had been dubious when it had come to the camping part, but Cas had assured her that he could provide her with anything she needed to feel comfortable. She had half-joked that if his bag of tricks included a five-star hotel room, then she was in.

The plan was for the men to go fishing and camping as a bachelor party of sorts for Gabriel. It would be just the guys for the first day, and then Gail and Liz would join them on the second day, after the women had had their own time together, the day before.

As Gail stood there looking at her husband in his fishing outfit, she thought back to the night that the two of them had found Lucifer's riddle in his old office at the TV station.

The moment they'd popped over to their house with Lucifer's riddle in hand, Gail was grinning. "I am about to be brilliant," she told her husband. "Read the riddle again, so I can show off, a bit."

Cas cleared his throat, possibly for dramatic effect: "'None is an island, but there is an isle that is one'."

"And the answer is...man," she said proudly. "There's a place called the Isle of Man, and John Donne wrote 'No man is an island'."

Cas just stood there looking at her for a moment, and then his face broke into a smile. "You know, every now and then, I forget how intelligent you are, because I'm so focused on how beautiful you are," he told her.

"If anybody else said that to me, I'd accuse them of being sexist," she said good-naturedly. "But because you're my husband, and because I'm kind of in the mood to be objectified right now, I'll allow it. I don't know what it is, exactly, but there seems to be something about solving these riddles that's putting me in a very romantic mood."

Cas was still smiling. He had to agree. It was probably because for the first time in a long time, they were feeling a real sense of optimism about the future. You would think they would have known better, really. But at this particular moment, it certainly felt as if the tide was turning. He took his wife in his arms.

"What would you like to do to celebrate this momentous event?" Cas asked her.

"We should probably go back up to Heaven," Gail replied. "I'm supposed to go see Liz, remember?"

"Either that, or, we should brainstorm again," Cas added. "There are still two more riddles to find: yours, and my brother's." He didn't want to speak Crowley's name right now, Cas thought. Not when he was feeling so romantic.

Gail felt the same way. Yuk. But, she knew what Cas was doing now. It was a little game they played. Each of them would always talk about what they SHOULD be doing until they started kissing, and then a minute or two later, they would be doing what they'd really wanted to be doing all along.

Cas kissed her, and it was one of those long, slow, lingering kisses she liked so much. Not much pretense there, Gail thought with amusement. He'd obviously been reading her mind. But she supposed that wasn't too surprising, after all the time they'd been together. Or maybe he was just feeling especially romantic, too. Worked for her. It was funny how she had heard that some couples became tired of this sort of thing after years and years of being together. She would never be able to understand that. She and Cas were almost never apart these days, and on the rare occasions that they were, all she could think about was getting back together with him again.

Gail looked into her husband's eyes. They had always been a beautiful shade of blue, and they sparkled when he was happy. She saw the sparkle now, and she was glad. They'd had so much heartache lately.

Cas looked down at his wife. He loved her so much. No, he didn't just love her: he worshipped her. She had no idea. He picked her up and popped her into their bedroom, placing her on the end of the bed. "Please," he said to her, so she remained where she was. He took off her pants, sliding them gently off her hips. Then he started to kiss the insides of her thighs with slow, open-mouthed kisses while she caressed his head, threading her fingers through his hair.

"I will love you for eternity, in every way possible," Cas told her. "You are my everything. My whole life. Nothing bad can happen to us. I will make sure of it."

Gail's stomach fluttered. She knew he'd meant it to be reassuring, but why had he gone and said something like that right now? Of course bad things could happen to them. Bad things happened to them all the time. She had a sense of foreboding now that was so terrifying that she felt dizzy from it. They needed that Book of Life. It could put everything right, before things got even more out of hand. But, they'd better hurry.

Cas slid her underwear off, and she put her worries in the back of her mind for a minute. But later, when they were cuddling, she said softly, "Are we seriously considering this, Cas?"

"What are you - " he started to say, but then he gave her a squeeze, sighing. No. No. He wasn't going to do that this time. This was too important. "I think it's the only way, my love," he replied. "And, the sooner, the better. I'm afraid the deaths will continue, so the sooner we get the Book and use it to bring them all back, the better it will be, for everyone."

Gail's stomach was churning again. "I want to do that too, Cas. Believe me, I do. But I'm scared. What about what Raguel said, about using the Book for our own selfish purposes? That's what HE wanted to do, too. Just because you CAN do something, that doesn't mean you SHOULD."

"I agree with you, my darling, but we wouldn't be using it for selfish purposes," Cas said persuasively. He saw no need at the moment to remind her that Raguel had actually said that it was Cas who would use the Book for HIS own selfish purposes. That was a very important distinction to make, he rationalized. He went on, "We would be using it to right a few wrongs, that is all. It wasn't fair that Jody passed away at such a young age, after having beaten her breast cancer. It wasn't fair that Raguel killed Chuck, when it was so unnecessary. And it certainly wasn't fair for Tommy to die at the hands of an ignorant young man, for the simple 'crime' of walking down a suburban street holding hands with the one he loved. If we could bring them all back to their loved ones, I don't think that would be a selfish act at all, do you?"

Gail was quiet as she thought about that. It sounded so ideal, didn't it? But these things always seemed to have a way of coming back on them and biting them in the ass. Hard.

"I don't see what harm it could do," Cas continued, as if sensing why she was being so quiet. "That is the only thing we'll do with it. Then we'll lock it away in Heaven, in the annex."

Gail supposed she couldn't argue with his logic. What harm COULD it do? There was nothing wrong with wanting to reunite families. And, Cas was right about one other thing: all three of those deaths had been unnecessary, and unfair. So they could right those wrongs, and then they would lock the Book safely away, so that no one evil would ever get their hands on it.

"Now we'll just have to figure out where the last two riddles are," Gail remarked. "It shouldn't be too hard to figure out where mine is. It'll be somewhere romantic. Hey, maybe we should search this house." Then she smiled. "Or, maybe you SHOULD search my lips. You've certainly checked every other inch of me," she added mischievously.

As Cas laughed softly, Gail became reflective. "I don't know about you, but so many memories came flooding back for me when we were at that TV studio. It was so strange, thinking I was a different person altogether. But you never gave up on me, Cas. And even when I wasn't sure who you were, or who we were together, I always felt safe and loved when I was with you. Just like I do now."

He kissed her tenderly. "Of course I never gave up on you, Gail. You're my person. I will never give up on you, no matter what happens now, or in the future. I only hope that you will always feel the same about me."

"Of course I will, Cas. You're my person, too. You're my husband, and I love you," Gail reassured him. Then, she sat up abruptly. "I know where we should check for my riddle!"

Luckily, the suite was unoccupied. The couple popped over to the hotel in Vancouver where Cas had proposed to Gail, both times. Cas had Googled the telephone number for the place and called it, expressing interest in booking the suite. When they'd told him it was available, he'd said that he would call back.

Gail had only been joking about searching their house. If there had been anything there, she was sure they would have found it by now. She practically turned the place inside out every year at Christmastime, cleaning and preparing for all their guests.

They searched the hotel suite a bit half-heartedly. No matter the circumstances under which they had found Lucifer's and Cas's own riddles, the Angels found it hard to believe that a piece of parchment would have lain there undiscovered for so long. Of course, that notion begged the question of just exactly how long the riddles had been at their respective locations, and who had put them there in the first place. Also, why? If God the Father had wanted them to find the Book of Life, why would He not have simply told them where ot was? Or, why would the location of the Book not just be in the red file? It had been the same with those Tablets. Why make a game out of everything? Was God really that bored?

Naturally, the Angels were unable to find anything. The bunker may not have a maid service, but the hotel clearly did. The two of them looked at each other. What now?

Gail glanced at the terrace. "I guess if we're going to check everywhere, we should take a look out there, too," she said to her husband. "Technically speaking, that's where we were when you proposed to me."

Cas smiled, taking her hand. They winked outside. It was fully dark now, but they could see all the city lights twinkling down below. It was a pretty view, whether in the daytime or in the nighttime. Cas put his arms around Gail's waist from behind her so that he could hold her while still enjoying the view. It was still summer, but now that the sun had gone down, there was a nice cool breeze. They both sighed contentedly.

"I remember how nervous you were," Gail said, smiling. "It was so cute."

"Well, I was about to ask the biggest and most important question of my life," he said lightly, into her ear. His arms tightened around her. "Of course I was nervous. Part of me was afraid you might say no."

Her smile faded a bit. It seemed unfathomable now, but there had been a time in their relationship when she just might have turned him down, or made him wait for her acceptance, at the very least. They had only found out after they were married that the whole Demon thing had never happened. But she had forgiven him for it at the time, and he had reluctantly forgiven himself. Metatron had very unexpectedly given them the gift of a lifetime when he had told them prior to their final confrontation with Lucifer that he had only modified their memories, and that none of it had ever been real. And it was a good thing that he had, because Lucifer had killed the Scribe during that confrontation. Cas had been extremely insecure following their separation, and it had taken a little while for Gail to grow into the strong woman she was now. But on the way to becoming that woman, she had discovered that she didn't want an existence without Cas in it. And now, each and every day, they grew closer to each other, and more in love. Say no? Yeah. As if.

Gail wrapped his arms even tighter around her waist, hugging them to her. "Your proposal was so beautiful," she told him.

"Was it?" he half-quipped. "I was so nervous that I don't think I even remember what I said. It was only when that white dove flew up here - " Cas interrupted himself. "Just a second, my love." He disengaged from their embrace for a moment, moving closer to the railing of the balcony. This was ridiculous. But, he just had to look, anyway.

There was a piece of parchment affixed to the outer side of the balcony. Unbelievable. If they hadn't come here to snuggle and reminisce, and if he hadn't thought of that bird, they would never have found it. He reached down.

It was Gail's riddle, so Cas handed it to her. "'Some say you should not, while others say you must'," she read aloud. "'But the Father will forgive you, if the cause was just'." She looked up at Cas, her lips twitching. "Suddenly, we're reading poetry, here," she remarked.

Cas was frowning, though. "The answer is: kill," he said in a subdued tone.

Gail was astonished at the speed with which he had solved the riddle. But it fit. "Oh," she responded dryly, not knowing what else to say. "Nice. Well, I don't care. This is still one of the most romantic places we've ever been. One little riddle isn't going to change that. So, all we need is one more. What have we got so far? 'O', 'a', 'man', and 'kill'." Gail's forehead wrinkled. "Are we sure that's right? It looks like these riddles are suggesting we have to kill some guy. I thought the solution was supposed to be the location of the Book."

Cas gave her a half-shrug. "As did I," he remarked. "We can take what we have to Sam or Kevin for additional opinions, but it appears that we will need the final riddle in order to piece it all together. It must be an anagram of some sort. But at least we're most of the way there, now. Once we can figure out the location of my brother's riddle and solve it, we'll be able to obtain the Book, and then everything will be fine."

But everything wasn't fine. Of course it wasn't. They'd just been on a bit of a hot streak. But the final riddle was eluding them now. What would be a location that was significant to Crowley? Hell, Dean had insisted. Not necessarily, Sam had chipped in. It could be the cottage where Fergus had been born, or his tailor shop. In that case, it would be more like the pub, Gail had added dryly, and the guys had laughed, but Castiel had scowled. He still remembered how Fergus thought that he owned Priscilla back then, and how angry he'd been when he'd accused John of taking her away from him. But even back then, before the so-called age of enlightenment, it had been Priscilla who'd decided where she wanted to go, and who she wanted to go with. Crowley had never gotten that. Well, it was a moot point now, since they all knew now that Fergus and Priscilla had actually been brother and sister. At least, Castiel assumed that it was a moot point. The King of Hell was a despicable individual, but there were a few lines even he wouldn't cross. No, Cas was thinking instead about Fergus's grave, in Scotland. Rowena would have used his bones for the revival spell, of course, but was there still a burying ground, or a crypt, maybe? To Cas, that would be the most significant place of all, because symbolically, that was where Crowley had left Fergus, and any semblance of humanity, behind him for good.

But while they'd been puzzling that out, Liz and Gabriel's wedding was rapidly approaching. Cas put the hat on his head and regarded himself suspiciously in the mirror. "I look like Gilligan," he lamented.

Gail burst out laughing. "THAT'S who I was trying to think of!" She nudged her husband. "That'll be perfect! You're Gilligan, and Frank can be the Skipper. He's got the beer belly, and the temperament, for it. Sam can be the Professor, making all kinds of contraptions out of coconuts and palm fronds. Liz can he Ginger, and I'll be Mary Ann. I always thought that she and Gilligan should have gotten together, anyway." She stretched up to kiss Cas on the cheek. "Or maybe Liz and Gabriel could be Mr. and Mrs. Howell. Can you imagine how much he'd ham up a role like that?"

Cas was amused. "Should I tell Dean to rent a boat, so that we can go on a three-hour tour?"

Gail laughed again. "That's excellent, sweetie! Do me a favour? Remember this conversation, because I want to have it again this weekend, with everybody there together. It'll be hilarious. You'd better duck your head, for when all the quips go flying around."

"Of course I'll remember this conversation," Cas told her. He took off the hat and rearranged his hair, and the expression on his face when he looked at the hat afterwards made Gail laugh yet again. He looked at her. "I remember every conversation we've ever had."

He was so sweet. Gail put her arms around him and gave him a hug. "Give me a kiss," she ordered him. Not that Cas minded. He was happy to take orders from such a cute little General. On impulse, he put the Gilligan hat on her head. But since Gail's head was smaller than his, the brim came low over her eyes, until only her nose and mouth were showing. Now Cas was the one to laugh.

"Well, I can't see you, but I'm pretty sure I'll be able to feel you," Gail said pertly. She puckered her lips exaggeratedly. Cas laughed again, and he leaned down to kiss her. "Sorry; you'll have to do that again," she said. "I didn't feel it."

So he gathered her up in his arms and planted one on her, leaning her backwards for emphasis. The kiss lasted at least a couple of minutes, and Gail was loving every second of it. But when Cas's tongue found hers, she tapped him on the arm and he righted her on her feet again. Gail took off the hat and handed it to him, smiling ruefully. "Why do you always do that when we're heading out somewhere?" she asked him.

"Maybe I just want to be sure you'll miss me, when we're apart," Cas said to her.

Of course she would. She always did. But they'd already had this conversation. Gail was convinced that it was healthy for them to do things separately, sometimes. And she and Liz hadn't had a good giggle-fest in a while. Cas was excited about learning how to fish the human way, and he'd always been an outdoorsy kind of guy. But by the time Gail and Liz got there the next day, hopefully they wouldn't have to rough it too much. She was sure that Cas would make certain that she was comfortable. And if worse came to worst, Gail could always appeal to Gabriel. He would probably have a huge tent, with all the comforts of a Las Vegas resort.

Gail grinned. "Have fun doing manly things today, because the old ball and chains are coming tomorrow," she said to her husband. Then they kissed once more, and then they went their separate ways.

"I wish we'd been able to hang out more, when we were humans," Liz said. Whoops. She'd said that a little too loudly. She glanced around the patio, but the only table near them was occupied with half a dozen rowdy college-age guys, and none of them were paying attention to the two women at the corner table drinking wine and talking quietly. Phew.

"Me, too," Gail agreed. "Can you imagine all the shenanigans we would have gotten into?" She picked up the carafe and refilled both of their wine glasses. Liz had wrinkled her nose when Gail had suggested they order some wine. They didn't drink, she'd pointed out. Then Gail had replied that that little fact had never stopped them before, and wasn't this supposed to be a celebration of Liz's upcoming wedding? So her friend had given in, and after a couple of initial sour-faced sips, Liz was now sucking the wine back like they weren't going to make any more. Gail was grinning. She hoped there weren't any penalties for aiding and abetting the corruption of an Archangel's fiancee. But, hey, Linda had taken them to a strip club, hadn't she? So this was tame, by comparison.

They started to talk about that night, and the reactions of the guys when they'd seen the various strippers. "I thought Gabriel was going to have a cow when Crash was flirting with you," Gail remarked, smirking. "When you look up the phrase 'double standard', his picture is right next to it."

"Hey, can I help it that men find me irresistible?" Liz joked. They clinked glasses.

"I don't know about irresistible, but you're sure cute," a young man said, approaching their table. He smiled charmingly. "My buddies over there bet me that I wouldn't be able to get you ladies to come over and join us at our table for a drink. I figured they were probably right. I'm not good-looking, and I don't have any smooth lines. But truthfully, I could really use the money. Tuition is expensive, and I still have to buy my textbooks for the upcoming semester. Is there any way you would consider...?"

"Yeah, sure. We'll let you guys buy us a drink," Liz said, getting up from her chair.

Gail looked at her friend, surprised. Maybe this was a by-product of the conversation they had just had, regarding Gabriel's past womanizing. Maybe Liz just felt like getting a bit of male attention before she got married. But it was just as likely that she felt sympathy for the guy.

So Gail picked up her glass of wine and went over to sit with Liz and the college guys.

"What's your major?" one of the guys asked Gail.

"Major?" she echoed blankly. The first thing she'd thought of was Dean calling Cas "Major Buzzkill".

"Yeah. What are you taking?" he tried again.

Gail was mystified. She lifted her glass. "Wine," she replied.

The young men all laughed, and Liz giggled. "We don't go to college," she told the youths. "I'm a teacher, and Gail is a..." What? What was Gail? Liz didn't know what got into her, but when she opened her mouth again, she said, "Gail is a lingerie model."

Their heads turned so quickly to look at Gail that she swore she heard a few necks cracking. She glared at her friend, who was looking innocent, as always. Thanks a lot, Liz.

"Really?" one of the young men who had introduced himself as Quentin said to Gail with great interest. "What's that like?"

Gail thought for a minute. "Cold," she remarked, not knowing what else to say.

"What do you teach, Liz?" another young man asked the blonde Angel. He had told them his name was Jasper.

"Sex education," Gail piped up. There. See how SHE liked it.

"I'll bet there are more than a few things you could teach me," Jasper said to Liz, raising an eyebrow.

Liz couldn't help but smile. Now that she had been together with Gabriel for so long, she wagered that might be true. Her fiance's reputation was well-earned, in many respects. But she didn't want this to get out of hand. She'd just come over here on a whim, but she didn't want any of these guys to think that either she or Gail were available. They were both wearing their rings, of course, but these young men might not have noticed. Or, they might not care.

"What are YOU majoring in?" Liz asked Jasper, trying to change the subject.

"Political science," he replied. "Politics is the modern-day version of the Coliseum fights, way back in the day. Most of the time, it's like the Christians versus the lions, only instead of weapons, the battle is fought with words, through the media."

Gail was intrigued by the notion. She wondered what Cas would have to say about the analogy. She was willing to bet all these guys' tuitions, combined, that he'd been there, at the time.

"Yeah, and while you guys are busy having your little rhetoric wars, our President's gonna wipe the floor with all those people who don't respect us," a sour-faced student who was sitting at the end of the table said.

Liz's eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about?" she asked him.

"What do you think?" Slash said. That wasn't his real name, of course; it was just what he went by. Young Corey would have recognized Slash as one of those pouty, heavy metal-loving, Satanist wanna-bes who channeled all their hostilities about how unfair they felt that life had been to them into hating people they didn't know, and couldn't possibly hope to understand. Benoit Levesque's Reich was being built on the shoulders of people like Slash. "I say we just nuke 'em all. We don't need any of those people. All they are is a drain on society, anyway. Somebody should just put birth control drugs into their water supply."

Liz was so astonished she couldn't speak for a minute. "What do you mean?!" she finally exclaimed. "Are you talking about poor people? Women, and kids? THOSE kinds of people?"

Gail was equal parts surprised and amused. She'd never seen Liz like this before. Her friend was ordinarily a very even-keel kind of person. But Gail could see that Liz was furious now.

Slash shrugged. "Hey, maybe they shouldn't have so many kids, then."

"So your solution to poverty is to bomb the crap out of them?" Liz shouted. "What about compassion? Whatever happened to caring about your fellow man? Which includes women and children, by the way!"

Slash sneered. "What's my so-called 'fellow man' ever done for me?" He leaned forward. "I know girls like you. You're one of those tree-hugging, dolphin-kissing FemiNazis, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am, and I'm proud of it, too!" Liz yelled. She grabbed the glass of wine the students had bought for her and stood up, throwing it in his face as hard as she could.

Holy moly! Gail got up from her own chair and rushed over to the other side of the table where Liz was. She grabbed her friend by the arm. "Come on, Liz. We have some whales to save," Gail quipped nervously. She looked at the young men, trying not to smirk at the expression on Slash's face. His wet, dripping face. "Well, it's been...interesting."

Then Gail yanked on Liz's arm, pulling her away from the patio. By the time they were far enough down the street from the place that it was obvious that none of the men were following them, she burst into laughter.

Liz started to laugh, too. "I've always wanted to throw a drink in a guy's face, just like in the movies," she confessed to her friend. "That felt great!"

Gail was still laughing. "Do you mean to tell me you've never thrown a drink in Gabriel's face before? Why the hell NOT?"

"I'm a tree-hugger, that's why," Liz said cheerfully. "I'm too nice."

"Well, cheer up," Gail said, as if they weren't falling down laughing already. "Maybe the longer you and Gabe are married, you'll influence each other. Maybe he'll get more Saintlike, and you'll become more of a rascal."

Liz's laughter had subsided a bit more now. "Maybe," she said, shrugging. "But then again, last time I looked, you didn't have a stick up your rear end, and Cas doesn't drink like a sailor."

Gail looked at her friend for a moment, and then they burst into laughter again. Liz put her arms around a tree. "Look at me," she said happily. "Now, all I need is a dolphin to kiss."

"I'd be careful who you say that around," Gail said good-naturedly. "If either one of our guys was here, you'd be kissing an actual dolphin, right now."

Liz grinned. "I'm sure there's a bunch of fish jokes in there, somewhere."

"I'm sure, too," Gail agreed. "But, for now, we'd better get to the bridal shop and get you fixed up. Then, we'll see if we can get into some more trouble."

"I'd like that," Liz said, still smiling.

Bobby, Cas, Sam, Dean, Gabriel and Frank were all sitting companionably at the shore of Lake Isaquah, in Washington State. It was the tail end of the summer now, and the Pacific Northwest region was cooler than most other places in the country. Cas had lobbied to go somewhere that wasn't as hot, and Bobby was only too pleased to bring them here. The lakes were sparkling and clean, and the fish were plentiful.

Cas was extremely relieved to see that the Winchesters were dressed in their customary jeans and flannel shirts, and so were the other men, even Gabriel. Bobby and Frank had baseball caps on, but no one else wore a Gilligan-style hat, so Cas had left that in his tent, along with his overnight bag. Tonight the men were roughing it, but tomorrow, Cas and Gabriel had already decided that they were going to upgrade the accommodations once the ladies arrived.

Dean had loved the fact that the Angels were dressed like him and Sam. "Now you're dressing like real men, for a change," he'd said approvingly. Gabe had rolled his eyes at that. Yeah, right. Whatever. But secretly, he was pleased to be here with these guys. He hadn't really had very many friends in the past, and even when he had, he'd had this unfortunate knack for alienating them, somehow. But somewhere along the line, these guys had all become like his brothers. Who the hell would have figured?

Bobby was showing Cas and Gabriel how to bait a hook. They'd never fished the human way before. Cas looked on eagerly as Bobby pierced the worm with the hook.

"Yuk," Gabriel said, wincing. "Doesn't that hurt them?"

Frank smirked. "Uhhh...no worse than it hurts the fish, when it bites down on that sharp hook," he said sarcastically. "I think you've been with Liz too long. You're starting to sound like her."

So Gabriel gingerly baited his hook, and the men started to fish. They were quiet, for the most part. Bobby'd said that too much noise would scare the fish away. But Gabe was starting to wonder if they were doing it wrong, because nobody was even getting a nibble. He looked at Cas questioningly, and his Brother gave him a half-shrug. Cas was just enjoying the serenity of the place, and the quiet companionship of his friends. It was just lovely here, he thought. The lake was sparkling in the sunshine, and there was a nice cool breeze wafting through the trees. Gail would love it here.

But Gabriel was Gabriel, and he was impatient. Wasn't the object to obtain some fish, here? So he waited a couple more minutes, but when nobody had come up with anything, he wiggled his little finger. A fish jumped out of the water onto the riverbank, making Sam spill his beer in surprise. He glared at Gabe for a minute, but the Archangel stared back at him innocently.

"Boy, the fish are really jumping today," Frank commented with a smirk. "And the cotton is high," Bobby added, his beard twitching.

After a few more minutes, some of them started to get a few nibbles. Cas pulled on the line, trying to reel in his fish. But the line broke, and his face fell.

"That must have been a big one," Bobby commented. "Next time, don't tug so hard. Use your reel, too. That's what it's there for."

"I've got something," Dean said. He didn't have much experience fishing either, but now that Cas had shown him how NOT to do it, Dean used a little more finesse, and he was rewarded a minute later with a good-sized fish.

"Good job," Frank said, tossing Dean another can of beer.

"Hey, my fish is bigger than yours," Dean said, grinning at Gabriel.

"Oh, you don't wanna go there with me," Gabe said mischievously. "I guarantee you, I can come up with a wayyyy bigger fish than that. You ever hear of a guy named Jonah?"

Dean looked at Cas, his eyes narrowing. "Is this guy on the level?" he asked his friend.

Cas's lips twitched. "More or less," he answered non-committally.

"Pass me a beer, Frankenberry, and I'll tell you all a whale of a tale," Gabriel said, grinning.

Liz had the final fitting for her wedding dress, and everything was good. Gail had tried on her Matron of Honour dress, too. Liz had gone for a peach pastel colour scheme, so Cas was going to wear a charcoal-grey suit and a peach shirt, and Gabriel was going to wear a black tuxedo with tails. They were doing some things the human way, like buying the dresses here at the bridal shop. Liz had wanted to patronize some Earth businesses, since they were getting married here on Earth.

Now the two of them were back at another patio having some more wine, but the mood was a bit more subdued this time.

"I'm nervous, Gail," Liz said to her friend, playing with the coaster the server had brought her for her glass.

"Why?" Gail asked her, although she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

"Because I'm not glamorous, and beautiful. I'm not Cleopatra, or Helen of Troy, or whoever else Gabriel might have romanced in the past. I'm just me," Liz said in a small voice.

"Yeah, and you notice that he never asked any of those so-called glamorous women to marry him, did he? He asked YOU," Gail said firmly. "He loves you, Liz. Forget about anybody else. You know, I think he's exaggerating about a lot of that stuff, anyway. He just likes having a reputation."

"I don't know, Gail. He does some pretty...uh...different things; let's just put it that way," Liz said, looking around them quickly to make sure no one could overhear. "At least, I think they're different. He told me he helped write the Kama Sutra."

"OK, I'm sorry, but I'm pretty sure he's making that up," Gail said, rolling her eyes. "What does he do that's so 'different'?"

Liz took another sip of wine, and then she told her friend what she was referring to. Gail had made the mistake of taking a mouthful of wine at that same time, and she sputtered now, trying to swallow it. "Get outta here," she said, open-mouthed. "I didn't think that was even physically possible." She paused for a moment. Then, she couldn't resist: "Do you LIKE that?" she asked Liz, wide-eyed.

Liz smiled slowly. "You know what? At first, I told him he was out of his mind. But he charmed me into it, and to tell you the truth, it's really good."

Gail considered that for a minute. She wondered if she should ask Cas to try that maneuver on her sometime, if it was that good. But then he would no doubt ask her where she got the idea from, and if she told him, it might get really weird. As it was, she'd better not think of it when she saw Gabriel next. There was no way Gail wanted that image in her head. No way.

Still, she laughed, and then Liz laughed, and they promised never to speak of it ever again.

The men were all sitting around the campfire now. Bobby and Dean had cleaned the fish, and Sam had fried it up. They had a delicious fish fry, consisting of whatever fish they had managed to catch with their own two hands, plus the fish that Gabriel had coaxed out onto the riverbank. Now they were having more beers and shots of whiskey, doing some male bonding. There had been quite a bit of razzing and juvenile humour, and then eventually, the humans went off to their tents, leaving the Angels to sit outside, looking at the stars. Bobby sat with Cas and Gabriel for a short while, and then he said he was going to go back up to Heaven for a few minutes. Laurel had called him on Angel Radio, saying apologetically that he had forgotten to sign a couple of forms. Did he think that he could take a second to do that for her?

Bobby had sighed. Just because Laurel worked around the clock, did that mean that he had to, as well? But then an instant later, he had felt guilty for having such a thought. Laurel was still in mourning, and she clearly felt that work was the best therapy. So he told her he would be right there, and winked himself away.

Cas and Gabriel sat quietly together. Gabe tossed another log onto the fire, and Cas said, "It's been a great day, but I'm looking forward to seeing the ladies tomorrow."

Gabriel smiled. "Me, too. I wonder if Bobby can just wave his arms and make all the bugs stay away. Liz isn't a fan."

"Nor is Gail," Cas agreed, nodding vigorously. "That's a wonderful idea."

There was another silence, and then Gabriel said tentatively, "Cas, what's being married like?"

"It's the most wondrous thing you'll ever experience," Cas said quickly. "It's the best feeling in Creation."

"Do you ever - and don't take this the wrong way - " Gabriel added hastily " - do you ever get tired of being with the same woman, day after day, for the rest of your existence? Or maybe I'm asking the wrong guy. It's not like you have a basis for comparison."

"That doesn't matter," Cas insisted. "What you're referring to is one of the very best parts. Knowing that you'll be with the same woman, day after day, for the rest of your existence. Knowing that she will be there to love and support you, and she will let you love and support her...I can't overstate it, Gabriel. You will be so happy."

Gabe nodded. It was funny, really. He found that he was strangely excited about the idea of getting married. He'd thought that monogamy would be a yoke that would feel heavy on his shoulders, but instead, the prospect was feeling warm and comfortable to him, just like one of those shawls that Leah wrapped around herself on cold nights. He grinned. Look at him, waxing all philosophical. Who would have ever thought?

"Thank you for doing this, Bobby," Laurel said to her boss.

He sighed. "You're welcome, dear. I don't suppose it would do any good to tell you I don't need you to work around the clock."

Laurel was the one to sigh now. "I know, I know. I just don't know what else to do with myself."

Bobby unlocked the door to his office. "Come on in," he said to her. "Take a seat, for a minute."

Laurel did, and Bobby looked at her with compassion. "I think we're good enough friends that I can say this to you," he said to his receptionist. "You might want to consider seeing somebody, Laurel. We've got a few grief counsellors here. I could give you some names, if you want." He saw no reason to remind Laurel that it was Chuck who had compiled the directory. When she remained silent, Bobby went on, "You know, there's no shame in asking for a little help, every now and then. We care about you, dear. We just want to make sure that you're okay."

She started to cry quietly, and Bobby frowned. "I've never lost anyone close to me that way," he told her, and that was true enough. Bobby'd lost people, but not at the end of an Archangel's blade, especially when Chuck's murder had been so completely unnecessary. What the hell was a grief counsellor supposed to say about THAT? But that wasn't Bobby's area of expertise; he just wanted Laurel to feel better.

"I'll tell you what," Bobby said. "I promised those guys one more day at Lake Isaquah. Liz and Gail are coming tomorrow, and we'll probably go fishing again, or go on a nature hike. If you want, I'll tell them I have someplace to be, and I'll take off after breakfast. Then I can come back here and you and me can go see one of those folks, together. What do you say, Laurel? Do we have a deal?"

Laurel's eyes were still pooled with tears. Bobby was so good to her. "We have a deal," she told him.

Lake Isaquah, Patricia thought. Bobby had left his office door open a crack, and she had heard their voices. Ever since Raguel had been killed by Castiel and Gabriel, Patricia had been obsessed with the notion of obtaining the Book of Life for herself. No one had come for her yet, so she assumed that no one really viewed her as a threat. Which suited her just fine. She didn't need Raguel, anyway. She didn't need any man. She was determined to figure out how to get her hands on that Book. For a moment, she'd thought about going to this Lake Isaquah, and trying to find out what Castiel knew. But she didn't dare risk them sensing her proximity. She was thinking furiously now. She knew from her eavesdropping that the Angels had begun to locate and solve the riddles that would lead to the Book of Life's location. But she had to proceed very cautiously. After initially thinking that Laurel might be an ally, Patricia had discovered that the girl's loyalties to Bobby ran much too strong. Patricia actually admired Laurel for that, and she had never condemned the younger Angel because of it. But that just meant that Patricia had to be all the more careful.

She briefly contemplated going to either Castiel's or Gail's office, to see if they kept anything on the riddles at either location. But Raguel had advised her that Castiel had had alarm systems installed in various spots in Heaven, and she could just bet that those spots would include their offices. It was likewise with the house they kept on Earth, she was sure.

Suddenly, a young female Angel appeared in the reception area, carrying a thin red file. Patricia moved quickly around the corner, hiding herself from view.

Emma glanced at the reception desk, but Laurel wasn't there. She could hear Bobby and Laurel talking, though, as she moved closer to the door of Bobby's office, which was slightly open. She was sure that Bobby would want to hear her and Kevin's news, so she tapped on the door and poked her head in.

"Sorry, Bobby, Laurel," Emma said, "but Kevin thought you would want to know that he thinks he's about to figure out the location of the last riddle."

Patricia had crept up on the door again and was listening intently. They were that close? Oh, no! She'd better try to get her hands on that file, ASAP. But, how?

Bobby sat back in his chair, looking from Laurel to Emma and back again. He'd finally been able to get Laurel to accept some help. If he left her right now, she might change her mind. So, he made a decision.

"I'll tell you what," he said to Emma. "Can you make copies of what's in that file? One for me, and one for you and Kevin. Then put it back in the cabinet, behind Laurel's desk. Don't worry about locking it up; it'll lock itself. Laurel and me have an appointment somewhere. I'll stop by your office when I'm done, and we'll see what Kevin's got. Okay, Emma?"

"Sure, Bobby," the young bespectacled Angel said.

Bobby winked himself and Laurel to his cabin in Heaven to get the information on the grief counsellors he had optimistically put on the table, in anticipation of their conversation. There was no time like the present, he'd told his receptionist. It wasn't as if any of these guys slept, or anything.

In the meantime, Emma had taken the red file into the little alcove adjoining the reception area. She made the copies as Bobby had requested, and then she returned the red file to the cabinet. As he had advised, the door locked itself as soon as she'd done that. Hmmm. Neat.

Patricia had been watching as Emma made the photocopies. As much as she would have loved to have grabbed the red file, the older Angel figured she'd better not. If a file of that magnitude of Confidentiality was discovered missing, they would be on high alert. But when Emma put the copies on Laurel's desk, looking around for a stapler, Patricia came out from the shadows and snatched one of the copies.

Emma regarded her curiously. The two Angels had never met. Patricia had already been gone from Heaven by the time that Kevin's assistant had come along. "What are you doing?" the younger Angel squeaked. "That's Confidential information! Who are you?"

"Never you mind," Patricia said haughtily. "I was serving our Father long before you even came into existence."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Bobby hasn't even been God that long. Cas was God, before him. And before Cas, there was some crazy lady running things. But that didn't last long. They chased her out of Heaven. That's what Kevin said, anyway. I wasn't here, then."

Patricia's hands curled into fists. "'Some crazy lady'?!" she exclaimed. "That was ME, I'll have you know, and I am NOT insane! Believe me, Castiel is much more crazy than I could ever be."

Emma reached out and grabbed at the documents Patricia was holding in her hand. "Give those back! Cas isn't crazy, YOU are! I'm calling Bobby!"

Patricia panicked. She couldn't have this little snip of a girl raising the alarm and sending her to prison. So she did the only thing she could do. She took the Angel blade out of her sleeve and stabbed Emma with it. "I'm NOT crazy," she told the girl while she was doing it. "I'm not, I'm not, I'm not!"

As Patricia was stabbing Emma to death, over and over again, each stab wound accompanying her protestations, Bobby was sitting with Laurel in the grief counsellor's office in Heaven. Emma had indeed called out to Bobby on Angel Radio, but Karl, the counsellor, had a strict policy. Anyone who came to his office for counselling had to have their frequency switched off. It was too distracting, he'd said. They talked about some pretty emotionally-charged things here. So Bobby had been unintentionally deaf to poor Emma's call for him to come, because he had shut down too, during the introductions.

Patricia stood over young Emma, breathing heavily. The blood from the girl's vessel was all over Patricia now, and her clothing was soaked. Oh, no. Now she'd done it. She was a killer. A murderer. No better than Castiel. The girl had just made her so angry. Maybe she WAS crazy...

No. No. Patricia was what Lucifer and Castiel had made her into. She had to get that Book, so that she could erase that entire ugly incident from existence. Only then would she be able to rest. Only then might she be able to live with herself again.

Patricia winked out of Heaven, taking the set of photocopied documents with her.

Liz and Gail popped over to the campground early in the morning, and they had a surprise gift for the human campers: coffee and breakfast, from a restaurant in the city.

"You ladies are lifesavers," Sam said happily. "I thought we were gonna have to heat up some water over the fire, and throw some of the local plants into it."

"I say we do that, anyway," Frank wisecracked. "Maybe we can go on a psychedelic trip." He looked at Gabriel. "What do you think, Gabe-ster?"

But Gabriel and Liz were kissing, ignoring him. So he turned to Dean, but Dean was eagerly opening the bag that Gail had just handed to him. "Did you get - "the elder Winchester started to say, and then he saw the additional container. "Extra bacon! Boo-yah!" Dean exclaimed, pumping his fist. He sat down with the food, grabbing one of the coffees she'd brought and toasting her with the cup. "Thanks, Gail. You're the best ex-wife ever."

"High praise, indeed," Gail said, kissing Cas. "Where's Bobby?" she asked the men.

"He didn't come back from Heaven last night," Cas remarked. "He said he had some work to do there. Maybe there was more to it than that, because we thought he would be back by now."

"I want to go fishing," Liz piped up.

"That's OK; we can take you," Frank said. "Just give us a minute to finish breakfast. I wanted to get some more fish to take home for Rob and Eric, anyway. I'll bet you a million bucks they only have a twelve-pack and a bottle of mustard in their fridge at the new place."

"We'll have to throw them a housewarming party and bring groceries, instead of household stuff," Liz said with a smile.

"You bring what you want, but I'm bringing them some bottles of booze," Dean said around a mouthful of bacon. "We've gotta get a decent bar set up over there."

Once Frank, Dean and Sam had finished eating, they all went down to the lake to try fishing again. "I'll show you how to put the worms on the hook," Cas said to the women.

Both of them peered closely at what he was doing. Gail made a face. It didn't look hard, or anything, but: "Doesn't that hurt them?" she asked, wincing.

"THANK you!" Gabriel exclaimed, nodding with approval. "That's exactly what I said!"

Somewhat surprisingly, Liz took a worm and emulated Cas. Gabriel gaped at her, and she gave him a half-shrug. But Gail was shaking her head, still making that face. "Ewwww. I'm not doing that. No, thanks. I'll just sit and watch you guys," she remarked.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked her. "It's kind of fun, once you get the hang of it."

Sam looked at his brother suspiciously. Okie-dokie. They had all fished together yesterday, but Dean hadn't exactly called it "fun". Why did he want Gail to try it?

The answer became apparent once everyone was settled in their chairs with their fishing poles in the water. Frank extended his free hand to Dean. "Pay up," Gail's brother said to Sam's.

Dean frowned. Then he sighed, putting his fishing rod down for a moment while he reached into his pocket for his wallet. He handed Frank a $10 bill.

"What's THAT all about?" Gail asked the men curiously.

Frank smirked. "I bet him there was no way you were putting a worm on a hook."

But then suddenly, Gabriel yoinked the bill out of Frank's hand. "I do believe that's mine, Frankenfish." He waggled his eyebrows at the women. "See what I did, there?" he added, pleased with his wordplay.

"Hey! What gives?" Frank exclaimed.

"Did you, or did you not, bet ME that Liz wouldn't do it, either?" Gabe said, grinning.

Frank sighed. Yeah, he had. He looked at Liz. She had her pole in the water, and she was watching avidly as Cas played out the line a little. Then she did the same thing. Frank shook his head. He'd really thought that someone like Liz would be against impaling a helpless little worm. Not to mention the trauma to the fish. But then again, Cas was a marshmallow, but when it came to animals, he was more than willing to wade right in there. Cas had watched Bobby clean the fish the night before, watching intently before he could take his turn. When Frank had joked about that, Cas had stated matter-of-factly that his Father had put the animals on Earth to serve man. Hunting for "sport" or torturing animals was unacceptable behaviour, but using them for sustenance or for protection against the elements was part of the way the cycle of life worked.

Apparently, Liz felt the same way, because her tongue was between her lips now as she concentrated on trying to land herself a fish. But she wasn't having any luck. Gabriel felt badly for her, and he also thought she was the cutest fisherwoman he had ever seen. She wanted a fish so badly. So he did the finger wiggle, and a fair-sized halibut jumped out of the water, onto the riverbank near Liz.

"Congratulations, my little turtledove," Gabriel said to Liz. "You just caught yourself a fish."

Liz looked at him dubiously. "No, I didn't. He's supposed to be on the hook, at the end of my pole."

"He obviously knew that you would object to such a barbaric practice," Gabe said smoothly.

Liz turned back to her fishing as Gail grinned. "You know, that's not too bad, but I think Liz can catch a bigger fish than that," Cas's wife remarked.

The metaphorical hook had been baited now, and a minute later, a huge salmon splashed out of the water. "That's a pretty good one, 'Liz'," Frank said, nodding. "But I think Rob and Eric might be just a little bit hungrier than that."

Now that the ante had been upped, so to speak, they all waited to see what would happen next. But Cas was leery of the look in Gabriel's eye now, so Cas pulled on his fishing line. "Wait a moment. I think I have something," he announced. Initially, he had just said it to distract Gabriel, for fear of what might jump ashore next. But now, Cas felt a hard tug. "I think it's a big one. Hold on." He started to pull on the line again. But then he remembered Bobby's instruction, and so he wound the reel, then tugged gently. Another yank on the other end of the line, and then Cas spun the reel quickly, gave the line another pull, and a huge trout flew out of the water and smacked Dean right in the face.

They were all silent for a moment, and then Gail and Frank started to laugh. Then Liz giggled loudly. The fish was wriggling in Dean's lap now, and he leaped up from his chair. "Cas! What the hell?!" he exclaimed.

Now everyone was laughing, except for Cas and Dean. Cas had let go of his fishing pole, and the fish was flopping around on the grass in front of their chairs. The two men were chasing it now, but it kept eluding them, because they kept bumping into each other in their efforts to capture it.

Gabriel was smirking. He had wiggled his finger again, figuring he'd help his Brother land a big fish, to impress Gail. But he hadn't counted on the fact that Cas had learned from yesterday's mistakes. So the fish had come out of the lake with a little extra Archangel "oomph", and headed straight for Dean's face. Gabe liked the Winchesters a lot better these days, but still, that was a win-win, in his book. Hey, funny was funny.

Cas was finally able to grasp the fish. "Be very calm," he instructed it. It stopped struggling immediately, and he placed it on the riverbank beside the other fish.

Dean was wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt now, and so was Frank, because he'd been laughing so hard. "Shut up, Frank," the elder Winchester said grumpily. He sat back down and grabbed his fishing pole again. Boy, he hoped he was able to land a really big one. Then, when Frank asked if he could take it home, Dean would tell him to go suck an egg.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas apologized, but Gabriel muttered, "I'm not," and the women laughed again.

Sam was grinning widely. But, since he had to go home with Dean at the end of the weekend, he figured he should change the subject. "So, Frank, is Angela excited about going to school next month?" Sam asked their friend.

"It's kinda hard to say," Frank replied. "On the one hand, she's all over learning new stuff. You guys know that. But on the other hand, I think she's nervous about interacting with other kids. Let's face it; the only kid around her age she really knows is Peter, and he's in Canada. It's too bad Brian isn't older. They could be school buddies."

Cas and Gail and Gabriel exchanged quick glances. It was a good thing Sam's son wasn't older. That would be all they needed. But Gail noticed that Liz was looking a little puzzled, when she'd seen them looking at each other like that. Gail's eyebrow rose. Had Gabriel pulled a Castiel move, and not told his fiancee about Brian? Was that one of those Exalted Angel type of deals, or was Gabriel maybe just keeping Liz in the dark for her own sake?

"After I get home from this wild bachelor party we've got going on here, I'm gonna help Rob and Eric move their stuff into the new place," Frank continued. "Bobby said we could have some Angelic help, if we need it." He looked at the other men. "I don't suppose you guys would be available?"

"Nope, sorry. We're busy that day," Gabriel said quickly.

"I didn't tell you what day," Frank pointed out.

"Ahhh, I'm just yanking your chain," Gabriel said good-naturedly. "Of course we'll help. And actually, if you have me, you won't need anybody else."

"I think he just wrote your wedding vows," Gail said, nudging Liz. The women laughed.

A few minutes later, Sam said, "I'd like to go for a walk. They have some nice nature trails here in the park. Anybody want to come with?"

"I'd like that," Liz said. "This fishing thing isn't really for me. But it's really nice, here."

Gail agreed. Considering that it was still the summer, the temperature was actually quite reasonable. That was probably because there were so many trees around, providing shade. "I'll go, too," she said, smiling at Cas.

Her husband took her hand. He thought that a nature walk would be wonderful. But before he could speak up and say so, he put a hand to his head, as did Gabriel.

It was Bobby, and the call was loud. "Get your asses up here, right away!" he said to the two Angels. "Just you two. Pronto."

Cas and Gabriel looked at each other, startled. What was Bobby so upset about? They rose from their chairs immediately, telling the others that God was summoning them.

"I'm sorry, my love," Cas said to Gail, anticipating her protest, "but he said for just Gabriel and I to come. Why don't you go on the nature walk, and I'll call you as soon as I know what's going on?"

Gail frowned briefly, but Bobby was the boss, wasn't he? Maybe he just wanted to give Gail and Liz the opportunity to enjoy some time there. It really was a beautiful area. So, she sighed. "OK, sweetie."

The men popped out, as the others started to pack up the fishing gear.

VIGNETTE - BROKEN DOWN ANGEL

They had thought that they were safe.

That was the prevailing thought echoing through Castiel's head now, as they stared down at Emma's bloodied vessel. How had this been allowed to happen? Who could have murdered the young Angel so brutally, just steps away from the High Office? And, why?

After waiting for Laurel to come out of her appointment with the grief counsellor, Bobby had walked her back to her apartment. He saw that she had been crying, and thought she could use the support. Bobby knew how these things worked; sometimes, the professionals would pry things out of you that you didn't even know were there, and just when you started reacting to what you had just discovered, they would tell you that your time was up. Besides, it had been Laurel's first time, and he had kind of pressed her into it. So they had walked quietly for a bit, and then Laurel had thanked Bobby for taking her there. She hadn't said much else, but he was encouraged by the fact that she'd said she was going to go back.

After dropping her off, Bobby had started towards Kevin and Emma's office, but then he'd changed his mind. Even though they were all Angels and none of them slept, Bobby had been trying to encourage some of the keener workers to take off from work at a reasonable hour. Kevin and Emma had been working practically 24/7 for months now, and Bobby thought that was a shame. But it was pointed out to him, with respect, that he and Laurel almost always burned the candle at both ends, too. If he didn't want others to do the same, Linda had said, then shouldn't Bobby lead by example?

Deciding that there was some merit to her argument, Bobby had begun curtailing his hours at the office. So after he'd left Laurel at her place, instead of going to the young Angels' office, he headed to his own place, instead. He'd spent the rest of the night reading, and then, at a respectably early hour, Bobby had headed to the High Office. He was going to call over to Kevin, asking if he could come. Besides, he'd wanted to check the Confidential file cabinet and ensure that it was properly secured.

But when Bobby got to the reception area, he froze. What the hell? He peered closer. No, he wasn't seeing things. That was a foot he saw, poking out from behind the corner of Laurel's desk.

He approached the desk, looking down at Emma's dead body in shock. What in the actual blue blazes...?

That was when Bobby had called Cas and Gabriel to come, and all three men were standing there now, speechless. Cas had knelt down to look closer at the young Angel's body, because Bobby hadn't had the stomach to do it. She was definitely gone, stabbed multiple times with an Angel blade, Cas had confirmed, rising to his feet again.

"No shit, Sherlock," Bobby said angrily.

Cas said nothing. He understood how upset Bobby was, because he himself was just as upset. Gabriel was shaken to the core. What the hell was happening, all of a sudden?

Bobby noticed the set of documents on Laurel's desk. One set. He'd asked her to make two. Where was the other copy?

While the men were puzzling over what had happened in Heaven, Frank, Liz, Gail and Sam were going for their nature hike. Dean had demurred, saying that he was going back to the campsite.

The four of them had been walking along companionably for a few minutes, just chatting idly, when all of a sudden, Gail felt it. A presence. She looked around, her eyes narrowing. Demon?

"What's the matter?" Frank asked her.

"I don't know," Gail said uneasily. "There's something - "

Before she had the chance to finish the thought, three men appeared on the path in front of them. Gail gasped. No way. It couldn't be. She had to be seeing things.

"It's been a long time," Lanister said, as Gail fumbled for her blade. Luckily, she had been carrying it with her when she and Liz had arrived at the campground this morning. They had been sitting in Cas and Gail's house, waiting until a decent hour to show up. Gail knew all too well how grumpy Dean and her brother got when they were awakened prematurely. Just before the women had gone to the diner to pick up the breakfast they'd brought, Gail had gone into the bedroom to get some money from the top drawer, and she'd seen her blade sitting there. Suddenly, she'd been overcome with a very strong impulse to bring it, for some reason. And as silly as that seemed, Gail was a believer in feelings like that. So she had slipped the blade into one pants pocket, and some money in the other.

But as Gail held her blade in her hand and looked warily at the newcomers, she realized now that she was the only one of her quartet who was armed. Lanister was holding an Angel blade, but he was the only one who was, as far as she could see. Did Xavier and Mark have weapons, too? It was impossible to tell. And, what were they, anyway? Demons? They certainly weren't Angels, not any more.

"Who are these guys?" Frank asked his sister in a cautious tone.

"The one with the blade is Lanister, and that's Xavier," Gail told the others. She also realized now that she was the only one in this particular group who would know these men.

"From the tribunal?" Sam said, astounded.

"Yeah," Gail said tersely. She pointed to the former Gospel writer with her blade. "And THAT'S Mark. Or, as you would know him, Felicia's killer." Her heart was in her throat. Mark. Of course. They had killed Ammit back in Saqqara, so Ammit had never killed Mark in the present timeline. Time travel: the gift that kept on giving. No wonder Cas was so nervous about time travel.

"What do you want?" Gail asked the men sharply.

"Justice," Lanister said bluntly. "You killed my son, and you were never brought to account for it."

"I told you, over and over again, that was self-defense," Gail insisted. "He was one of Jason's men, and they were torturing Dean for information on our whereabouts. Look, I'll tell you this just once more: I'm sorry. I know Aaron was just doing what Jason told him to do, but you guys crucified Cas, so I think that makes us pretty even," she added sarcastically.

"Yet Castiel still lives, and my son does not," Lanister said pointedly.

Gail said nothing, because really, what could she say to that? But Frank had some words for the men. "I have no idea what's going on here," he said angrily, "but, it doesn't even matter. You losers railroaded my brother-in-law, and then you executed him, just because he didn't measure up to whatever you think an Angel should be. And, you?" He looked at Mark. "You're the worst kind of cowardly bastard there is. You killed your own wife. Rob's mother. If you didn't want to be married to Felicia any more, why didn't you just stay away from her? You didn't have to make the kid an orphan, you son of a bitch."

Mark sneered. "What's it to you? Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Rob's father," Frank said through gritted teeth. "ME. Not you."

Mark shrugged, smirking. "Hey, be my guest. I never wanted the snot-nosed little brat in the first place."

"Leave this to me," Gail said nervously. She didn't want Frank mixing it up with these guys. She was still unclear as to their status, or what kind of powers they might have. Frank and Sam were unarmed humans, and Liz had never fought anyone. Gail moved forward. "What are you here for?" she asked them again. Her eyes focused on Lanister, since he was the one who was holding a weapon.

"I told you. Justice," Lanister repeated. He moved closer to her, just as she was moving closer to him.

"Fine. If you want to kill me, I would invite you to try," Gail said coolly, sounding eerily like her husband. "You'll find out I'm not the same little cream puff I was back at the time of the tribunal. In fact, why don't you dismiss your back-up singers here, and I'll ask my family to leave us alone, so that we can fight? Then we'll see who gets their justice. Unless you'd like to weigh in, Xavier? I can fight both of you at the same time, and I would be glad to show my husband's prosecutor what real justice looks like."

"Where IS Castiel?" Xavier asked her.

Gail glared at him. "That's none of your business. You're dealing with me, now. I'd be very happy to send you both back to Hell. You too, Mark. My brother's right; you're a coward, so you shouldn't present much of a challenge. And when you all get back to Hell, you can ask Crowley how adept I am at killing Demons, or whatever the hell you guys are. And then, with any luck, he'll send you all back here, so I can kill you all over again," she added, almost cheerfully.

"I'm not here to fight you," Lanister said. "As I believe I've said, I'm here to take my revenge." He popped over to where Liz was standing. Like Frank and Sam, Gail's Angel friend had hovered there uncertainly. Liz had never been in one of these kinds of situations before. Lanister grabbed her and held the Angel blade to her throat.

Gail couldn't believe it. She was beyond angry, now. "Is Mark teaching a class in Hell on how to be a coward?!" she shouted. "Liz, why don't you go back to the campsite, and take the guys with you? If these idiots need to pick on a woman, they can pick on me."

But Liz just stood there, terrified. She had never been threatened like this before. She could feel the point of the blade scrape her throat. Liz was afraid to move, or even to breathe.

Gail had miscalculated. She'd thought that her friend would just wink herself away, or kick Lanister in the shins, or something. But Gail had been fighting for so long now that she had forgotten that not everyone was as well-trained as she was. Still, she thought that she could handle the situation. "Go back to the campsite, Liz," she repeated.

Suddenly, Frank rushed Mark, and Sam rushed Xavier. Their enemies had been taken by surprise, and so had Lanister. His grip on Liz loosened for a split second, and Liz wrenched herself out of his grasp. Gail rejoiced. Now, Liz could pop out, and go back to where Dean was. She would be safe, and then Gail could start to carve those guys up. And if Sam and Frank wanted to tenderize them first, so much the better. Both of her guys could take care of themselves just fine, even without weapons.

But just as Gail was running forward towards Lanister with her blade raised, he knocked Liz to the ground and fell on her, stabbing her with the Angel blade. Gail screamed incoherently.

Frank had Mark by the shirt front, and he punched the Gospel writer twice in quick succession, as hard as he could. "That one's for Felicia, and that one's for Robbie," Frank told him. Blood flew from Mark's nose and mouth, splattering Gail's brother's shirt. "Oh, what's the matter?" Frank taunted him. He punched Mark again. "I guess you're only used to beating up on women."

Screw this, Mark thought. He hadn't signed up for this. He'd only come along because he'd had nothing better to do, and because he'd wanted to see the look on Castiel's face when all three of them showed up, out of the blue. But this guy wasn't letting up, and Castiel wasn't here, anyway. So, like the true coward he was, Mark disappeared from Frank's grasp.

Sam had gotten one good shot in on Xavier, but then Xavier had had the presence of mind to regroup, and he had blasted Sam into the forest. The younger Winchester went flying through the trees, and out of sight.

Xavier ran over to where Lanister was. Gail was already there, and she was fighting with Lanister, trying to pull him away from Liz. Gail stabbed Lanister in the arm, and he lashed out with his blade. She evaded him the first time, but then Xavier grabbed her arms from behind, holding her in place. Lanister slashed at her again, and this time his knife connected, opening up a wound in her stomach. Then he turned back to Liz. She was on the ground, and Gail could see that her friend was bleeding, but she couldn't tell from where.

Gail didn't delay any further: she screamed out over Angel Radio for Cas, Bobby, and Gabriel. She ripped herself from Xavier's grasp and turned around to stab him, but Frank was fighting Xavier now. So Gail turned back to Lanister and sunk her Angel blade into his back, as hard and as deep as she could. He bellowed loudly in pain, and as Gail pulled her knife out of him with both hands and prepared to stab him again, Bobby, Cas and Gabriel arrived.

Xavier had been about to blast Frank away the same way he had done to Sam, who had still not returned. But as soon as he saw the new arrivals, Xavier vanished. So did Lanister, but the latter stared defiantly at Castiel for a moment before he went.

It had all been so sudden; so out of the blue. The three male Angels stood frozen in shock for a moment at what they'd seen, and then they rushed forward.

Cas hurried over to where Gail was standing beside a prone Liz, who was laying motionless on the path. Cas had seen right away that his wife was bleeding from her stomach wound. He reached for her to heal her, but Gail pushed him away. She needed to see Liz, to make sure her friend was okay. Gail sank down to the ground at Liz's side, as Gabriel came running. He slid on his knees to his fiancee's other side.

Liz's eyes were wide open, as if she had received a big surprise of some sort. And she had, of course; the attack had been so sudden and so vicious that she'd been unable to process what was going on. That was why she hadn't popped out of there when Gail had said that she should. Liz hadn't really believed that man was going to harm her. Why should he? Liz didn't even know him.

But Liz had been naive. She and Gail might be best friends in Heaven, but Liz had never been exposed to the dark and violent side of Cas and Gail's existence. And Gabriel's, for that matter. For all of his casual and usually charming banter, it was easy to forget that he was a mighty Archangel who had made civilizations crumble in the past, whether at his Father's direction, or not.

Gabriel put his hands on Liz's chest to heal her, but she took his hands in hers, instead. "You're the finest man I know," Liz told him. "Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise. Not even you." She coughed, and the blood burbled out of her mouth. "I love you, Gabriel. You're the best time I ever had." Then Liz's head turned to look at Gail. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen. Don't forget..." She coughed again.

Forget? Forget what? Gail thought wildly. The combination to the safe? To pick up the dry cleaning? What? What?

But Liz had nothing further to add. She had fallen silent, and Gabriel felt her hands go limp. The Archangel kissed Liz on her forehead and then he kissed her cheek, where he could taste the tears that had dribbled out of the corners of her eyes. She had been crying, not for herself, but for him, and Gail, and Cas, and Frank, and Angela. For the old folks in the seniors' centre, because who were they going to get to call the Bingo game now, and sit patiently and listen to them tell the same story for the fiftieth time, pretending as if they'd never heard it before? Or the kids in Heaven's school, who were too young and innocent to understand what a son of a bitch God the Father could be, sometimes. That salty taste was Gabriel's reminder that the game was only over when his Father said it was over. He got to his feet slowly, staring up at the sky. Which was ridiculous, of course. God was no more in the puffy white clouds that were visible between the trees any more than he was in Heaven, in Pebble Beach, or shining shoes at Grand Central Station. Did people still do that? How the hell should Gabriel know? He was thousands upon thousands of years old, and feeling every bit his real age right now.

Gabe lifted his head higher, and cursed loudly and viciously. Let the Old Man smite him. What the hell did he care? But He wouldn't, of course. That would be too quick. Too merciful.

He looked down at Gail. She was still kneeling there, looking down at Liz, in total denial. Then Gabriel looked at Cas, and their eyes met for a moment. Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but Gabriel wasn't interested.

"Good luck," Gabriel said bitterly. Then he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

How many more of these things was she supposed to attend? Gail wondered. How many more funerals could she sit through, before she just gave up, and lost her damn mind?

Cas was watching his wife as she sat, motionless, in the front row of seats. He was in one of the chairs that was next to the podium. In a moment, he would get up and speak about the Angels who had fallen, just as he had when Efram and Riley had died. And, just as on that occasion, Cas felt the ever-present weight of guilt on his shoulders. Two more were dead now, and the toll that all of this was taking on their family was immeasurable.

Gail continued to sit staring straight ahead as Cas stood to give the eulogies. He looked down at Emma and Liz, and then he looked at Gail again, and the sorrow was etched so deeply in Cas's face that it looked as if a sculptor had permanently chiseled the lines there. He thought back to this morning, when Gail had begun to get dressed for the service. She'd just stood there in front of the closet, staring at her clothes. When she still hadn't moved nearly five minutes later, Cas had taken out her black FBI suit and a blouse. He'd led her over to the edge of the bed and dressed her as if she were a small child, and then he had taken her by the hand and led her to her seat at the service.

Gail was sitting right beside Liz's coffin, but she had not yet been able to bring herself to look at her friend. Liz had been wearing pants and a top for their camping weekend, but she usually favoured long, flowing skirts, or sundresses. Gail had teased her friend about that. Sure, it was easy to wear clothes like that when you were tall and blonde and buxom, with legs up to here, Gail had said, gesturing to her own underarms. Liz had laughed merrily at that, saying that she didn't know what being blonde had to do with it, but that Gail could wear dresses too, if she wanted to. Then Gail had remarked that she wouldn't want Cas coming home and mistaking her for a garden gnome if she tried to put on one of the kinds of dresses that Liz wore, and she and Liz had giggled like the schoolgirls they had once been together, at the nonsensical joke.

Gail had gone to Liz's apartment before the service to pick out one of her friend's favourite dresses to dress her in for the service, and she had given it to Karen, who'd said that she would dress Liz in it, because Gail couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd been hoping that she would find Gabriel there, but it seemed that he had disappeared into the wind.

He wasn't at the service, either. Both Cas and Gail had hoped that he would come. Frankly, Gail wasn't entirely sold on the concept of closure, but at least they could have provided comfort to each other. And Cas was almost as worried about Gabriel as he was about his own wife. In fact, maybe more so, because Cas could give Gail all the loving support she needed, and so could the human man who were waiting for them back at Frank's house. But Gabriel was out there somewhere all alone, in a very fragile state of mind. Where would he go? What would he do?

Cas spoke to the crowd about Emma, and then about Liz, emphasizing their positive qualities and contributions to Heaven. In Liz's case, the list was lengthy. She had been a nearly Saintlike individual who had toiled in relative anonymity in all corners of Heaven, brightening up the existences of everyone who had been the beneficiary of her endless love and optimism.

Gail didn't cry as Cas spoke. She was completely numb, it seemed, although her stomach hurt constantly. Cas had knelt beside her and healed her wound on that nature trail, as Liz lay dying, and Gabriel disappeared. No, it wasn't that. It was acute grief, and depression, and guilt. So much guilt. It was all Gail's fault. She had screwed up, all the way down the line. Even if she took into consideration the fact that none of them could have foreseen the sudden appearance of Lanister, Xavier and Mark, that didn't erase Gail's culpability. She should have called for backup right away. Why hadn't she? Because Bobby had called Cas and Gabriel up to Heaven on an apparently very serious matter? Well, so what? Was anything more important than what had happened on that nature trail? And then, she'd compounded her grievous error by thinking that she could handle the situation. Why? Because she could fight, and kill? That was all very well and good, if it was only her neck that was on the line. But Frank and Sam were humans, and Liz might as well have been, for all the experience she'd had fighting. What the hell had Gail been thinking? Well, the answer to that one was obvious, wasn't it? She hadn't. She hadn't, and now, everyone else was paying the price.

And there was also young Emma, laying there just as dead as Liz. It could almost be argued that her death was even worse, because it had been completely overshadowed by Liz's. Gail's grief for her best Angel friend was so acute that she could barely register the fact that Emma had been murdered, too. And why? No one knew.

As Gail sat there following Bobby's final blessing, Kevin came to the front of the room and stood in front of Gail's chair. He looked down at her, frowning. Oh, good. He was going to yell at her, tell her how selfish and insensitive she was being. She hadn't even acknowledged Emma's death. Gail rose from her seat, looking Kevin in the eye. Finally, someone was going to give her the lambasting that she deserved.

Kevin reached out and pulled Gail to him for a hug, murmuring words of comfort. Then he let go of her and as she stood there, stunned, Kevin walked over to Emma's coffin. Whoever had lain her in there had forgotten one very important thing. Kevin reached into his pocket for the spare pair of eyeglasses she'd kept in the top drawer of her desk. The ones she'd been wearing when Bobby had found her had been smashed and bloody. But Kevin put these glasses gently on Emma now, pushing them up the bridge of her nose for her. He nodded. There. That was how she was supposed to look. Then he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, and then he was gone.

That simple, loving act of Kevin's was enough to do it. The floodgates burst open then, and Gail started to sob. She made herself go to Emma's coffin and looked down at the young Angel, remembering all of the girl's non sequiturs and little-known facts, that were both so weird and so amusing at the same time. Later, Gail would have to try to work up the energy to talk to Cas in more detail about Emma's murder.

But right now, she had to do something else. Gail looked at Liz. Her friend looked peaceful enough, considering the way she had died. Beautiful, even, in her floral-print dress, her wavy blonde hair golden and shining. Actually, maybe it was just as well Gabriel wasn't here, Gail thought. Liz's hands were folded on her stomach, and the sparkling diamond ring Gabriel had given her was on full display. There had been quite a few jokes flying around about that, but in the end, Gabe had shown remarkable restraint. Gail was still weeping. Yes, this sight would have broken Gabriel's heart, just as it was breaking hers. Well, if there were any pieces left to break, that was.

Cas took her hand. "It's time to go," he said softly, and he winked them out without another word.

They reappeared in Bobby's office a moment later. Gail glanced around, disoriented. She hadn't really wanted to stay where she'd been any longer anyway, but if Cas had decided to take her somewhere she could grieve in private, he'd sure picked a strange place.

But then she saw that Kevin was here too, with a sheaf of notepaper in his hand. An instant later, Bobby popped in, looking somber.

"Go ahead, Kevin," the reigning God said. "The floor is yours."

"I think we've got the location of the last riddle," Kevin told the couple. He handed the papers to Cas. "Emma and I - " Kevin's voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "We translated this as: 'the fruit tree that prompted woman's first sacrifice'. Does that make any sense to you guys?"

Of course. Of course it did, Castiel thought. He scanned the words. That could only be the tree of the forbidden fruit, back in Eden. They now knew that Eve had falsely confessed to the transgression of the eating of that fruit to shield her son Cain, who had actually been the one to partake.

Cas's heart sank. Great. The riddle was in the tree, back in the Garden of Eden. And there was only one person who could send Cas and Gail back there to get it, wasn't there?

"Thanks, Kevin," Bobby said to the young Angel. "I need to talk to these two in private, now."

So Kevin left, and now Bobby was staring at both of them. "Have a seat," he invited the couple, and once they were all sitting down, Bobby said, "I know what you two are thinking, and I'm not sure I can sign off on it."

Cas looked at him incredulously. "You're joking, right?" he said bluntly.

Bobby sighed. "No, I'm not, Cas. If you've gotta make me the bad guy, go ahead. But, as heartbroken as we all are about everything, I don't know if using that Book is the answer. That kind of thing is nothing to play around with. There are always consequences when you mess around with something that powerful. Always."

"I'll bear them," Cas said, his lips tightening.

"Yeah, but you're not the only one who's involved here, Cas," Bobby pointed out. "We're a family. That means we're all in this together."

That statement of his prompted Gail to speak, and her tone was angry. "Do you think there's anyone in this family who wouldn't give everything to bring even one of them back?" she asked Bobby sharply. "I'll take whatever God wants to dish out. If I could just see Frank's face when he sees Jody sitting in that kitchen again, or Gabriel and Liz dancing at their wedding, or Barry and Tommy, sipping champagne at the publication party for Tommy's book? There's nothing I wouldn't give to see those things, Bobby. Nothing. THAT'S what family means. THAT'S what you do for them. Put it all on the line."

Bobby looked at Gail, then at Cas, and then back at Gail again. Tears were streaming down her face once more, and a lump formed in his throat. He wanted to see those things, too. What the hell kind of a screwed-up world were they living in, anyway? And since when had Bobby become such a coward? No. No. This couldn't be allowed to stand. If Cas and Gail were gonna sit there and invite God to give it to them with both barrels just because they wanted to right a few wrongs, then damned if Bobby wasn't going to back them all the way.

"I know where Gabriel is," he told the couple.

Of course Bobby had known where Gabriel was; he was the current God, after all, and the Archangel had not bothered to shield himself. They could come, or not. What the hell did he care?

Cas and Gail stood downstairs in the street, looking up at the place that Gabriel had chosen to call home. It was the dirtiest, dingiest hotel Gail had ever seen. This was the kind of place where people came to end their lives with a needle, or by drinking themselves to death. People who society had given up on. People who had given up on themselves.

Bobby had intended to give Gabe some time to wallow before sending Cas and Gail to rescue him from himself, but now that they needed the Archangel to send the couple back to Eden to obtain the final riddle, he couldn't afford that luxury. The longer Gabriel had to wallow, the more likely it became that he would decide to take a permanent powder, like he'd done at the time of the impending Apocalypse. A part of Bobby was surprised that he hadn't already done that. It would be understandable, in a way. Gabriel had made an emotional investment in all of them, only to be rewarded with heartbreak. What possible reason could he have for sticking around?

Cas popped himself and Gail directly into Gabriel's room. He couldn't run the risk of giving his Brother the opportunity to bolt. Gabriel looked up expressionlessly as the two of them appeared. He was sitting at a small table by the window, drinking from a bottle of some kind of alcohol.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he said sarcastically. He waved his free hand and the unoccupied chair pulled itself out from the table. "Have a seat, Kitten. Don't mind the cockroaches. You're more scared of them than they are of you." He snapped his fingers, and a drink appeared in Gail's hand. "Come on; have a snort," he encouraged her.

As Gail sat down beside him, Gabriel looked up at Cas. "I'd offer you one too, but you've got that stick-up-your-butt look going on right now," the Archangel said to his Brother. "Let me guess: you don't approve. I'm dirty, and I smell. I haven't changed my clothes or shaved since I got here. I've just been drinking bottle after bottle, until I can finally drink enough to get her out of my mind. And the two of you, and the rest of the Angels, and Frank, and the flannel twins, and everybody else. Maybe I'll try heroin. There's lots of that here. Or maybe I'll go pick a fight with Crowley. He can send Hakeem to kill me, if he doesn't have the stones to do it himself."

"Gabriel..." Cas started to say, but the Archangel put a hand up. "I know what you're going to say, Castiel," Gabe sighed. "Believe me, I know. You're going to remind me that I have responsibilities. That I have to do my duty. The fate of the world rests on our shoulders. People are depending on us. Well, you know what I say to that, don't you?" He upended the bottle, guzzling its contents, and then he filled it again just by waving his hand.

"No, I wasn't going to say any of that," Cas said now. "I was going to ask you for a drink, and for another chair. I was going to tell you that I understand. And, that my name is Cas."

Gabriel smiled bitterly. "Oh, so that's the tactic, is it? OK, then. Cas, it is. Have a seat, Cas." Gabe snapped his fingers, and another chair appeared. As Gail's husband moved to sit at the table beside her and Gabriel, a drink appeared in his hand. "Have a drink, Cas," the Archangel continued, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "What should we drink to? Oh, I know. Let's drink to the people on Earth." He raised his glass. "Screw 'em. THAT'S what I say. What have any of those little insects ever done for me, anyway?"

Gail's eyes widened. She had a dizzying sense of deja vu now. Gabriel was Slash, asking her and Liz what his fellow man had ever done for him. Gail didn't know whether she should laugh, or cry, or throw her drink in Gabe's face.

"What's the matter, Gail?" Gabriel said coldly. "I could have used much worse language, but I didn't, in deference to you. I know you must be very confused by this whole thing. After all, you've never met the real Gabriel before. Well, take a good look. Here he is." He picked up the bottle and guzzled from it again, letting the liquid pour down his face, soaking his shirt. "Anything you thought you saw in me, any kind of redeeming quality, was just an illusion," Gabriel added. "The truth is, I don't care. I've never cared about anybody, or anything, other than myself."

"I don't believe that for a minute," Gail told him.

"No?" Gabriel laughed derisively. "Then, you're just as gullible as she was. I thought you were a better judge of character, Kitten. Then again, you married Castiel, the one person in Creation that's even more screwed up than I am. So, what the hell do you know?"

"There's no need to talk to Gail that way," Cas said to his Brother.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, smashing the bottle down on the table. "Don't you get it, Cas? No one cares! No one! Not me, not Crowley, not Dad...nobody. She used to say stuff like that to me all the time. SHE thought I was a hero. I kept on telling her she was wrong. But she insisted, and insisted, and insisted. Yeah. Some hero. Look at me. Where was I, when she needed me the most?"

"Her name was Liz! Say her name!" Gail shouted. "Liz saw the good in everybody, even if they couldn't see it themselves! When nobody else in our school would have anything to do with me, Liz was the one who befriended me. She was the only friend I ever had, growing up. The only one. Now she's dead, and it's my fault! Mine! I loved her, and I got her killed! But don't you dare disrespect her by telling me she was wrong about you! Why don't you take your head out of your own ass long enough to realize that you're not the only one who's grieving, here? Oh, and one more thing - " She threw her drink in his face, as hard as she could. Then Gail gave a half-laugh, half-sob, picturing Liz's face when she'd done the same thing to Slash. "You're welcome," Gail said to the image of her friend.

For a split second, Cas was afraid he might have to fight Gabriel. The Archangel's eyes flashed a bright purple, and he half-raised his arm, as if he was contemplating retaliation. And as badly as Cas felt for his Brother at the moment, he couldn't allow Gabriel to strike Gail, of course. But Gabriel's arm hung there for a second, and then he mopped his face with his sleeve, instead. Then, he waved his hand, and Gail's glass filled up again. "Good shot," he said mildly. "But next time, just sock me one. I hate to see a waste of cheap booze."

Gail sighed. "Liz was NOT wrong about you," he insisted. "She wasn't. Neither are Cas and I, or Frank, or Sam and Dean, or everybody else who cares about you. And there are a lot of us. So, I'll give you one more day. Not Bobby, not Cas: me. But if you're not cleaned up and knocking on our door by this time tomorrow, I'm coming back, and then you and I are going to have a problem. Is that clear?"

Gabriel was caught off guard, and so he smiled. His little Kitten. She might be the only one of them who truly understood him. But he said nothing, just raised the bottle to her in a toasting motion.

"Come on, Cas," Gail said, rising from her chair. "We have to get ready."

For what? Gabe wondered. But before he had the chance to decide if he cared enough to ask, the two of them had popped out. Huh.

Gabe took another drink.

Gail had popped herself and Cas back to their house on Earth, to begin the vigil. Would Gabriel come? She honestly had no idea. She'd just been talking tough, of course. Trying to shake Gabe out of the depths of his depression. What the hell could she possibly do, if Gabriel decided he wanted to check out? Nothing; that was what. A big, fat nothing. A large part of her felt like just going back there, pulling up a chair, and telling him to keep the drinks coming. If it hadn't been for Cas, she might just have done it, too.

She could sense that Cas was staring at her, but for some reason, Gail couldn't look at her husband's face right now. She flopped down on the couch, trying not to think of all the times Liz had done the same thing, either here or in Gail's office in Heaven. "Wow. He looked like crap," Gail remarked. "He looked on the outside like I feel on the inside."

Cas's stomach clenched, and he sat down gingerly beside his wife. "If I could take all your pain away, I would," he told her. "I asked God to take the cup from you. But, clearly, He has refused to spare you this time. I'm sorry, Gail. You told Gabriel that this was all your fault, but it's not. It's mine. It's always been mine."

"Oh, I think I can take a helping of that blame, Brother," Gabriel said. He'd appeared suddenly, taking both of them by surprise. He was cleaned up and clean-shaven, dressed in fresh clothes. He sat down on Gail's other side, taking her hand. "I owe you an apology," the Archangel said to her. "You were right, about everything. If I turned my back on you now, I would be turning my back on Liz, too." He sighed. "It looks like we're all in this together, whether we like it or not."

Gabriel had come very close, but in the end, he hadn't quite been able to bring himself to do it. After Gail and Cas had left, all Gabe could do was picture Liz, telling him how ashamed she was of him. Was he honestly going to just give up on her, and their family, after all they'd meant to each other?

Ultimately, and somewhat surprisingly, the answer was no. Gabriel couldn't give up on his family, and apparently, they weren't going to let him give up on himself, either. But this had been the harshest punishment the Old Man had ever doled out. Gabriel and Castiel had been called on the proverbial carpet for various transgressions before, but this time was the worst. And now, Gail had been sucked into the vortex, too. What was SHE having to atone for? Being too cute? In Gabe and Cas's case, there was a veritable grab-bag of reasons God could have for wanting to stick it to His Sons. Gabriel had deserted Castiel and the others at the time that the first Apocalypse was nigh. Had God been testing him, to see if he would stick around for this one?

But Gabriel had made a promise that he would, both to Castiel and to himself. And even if Gabe had never gotten to take his wedding vows, which he had fully intended to do, he was going to honour THAT vow, anyway. He was no fool; he had already figured out what Cas and Gail intended to do once they got their hands on the Book of Life. And it might even work, too. God could be the hardest of hard-asses, and then suddenly, He would chuckle indulgently, pat His children on the head, and send them on their way. Maybe He would reward their persistence and love for their family members, both the fallen and the survivors. But, Gabriel doubted it. If you were playing in Dad's sandbox, He expected you to play by His rules. Gabe had a sinking feeling that things were about to get even worse.

But Gail was looking at him with those big brown doe eyes, and Cas was looking at Gabriel as if his Brother was someone to be admired, and not Creation's original Court Jester. The Archangel sighed once more. "Let's go get my horn out of hock," he joked weakly.


	7. Pity The Child

Chapter 7 - Pity The Child

Before Gabriel sent the pair back to Eden once again to obtain Crowley's riddle, the Angels stopped by Frank's house. Dean and Sam were there, too, and Eric and Rob. They had all been concerned about their Angel friends, following the latest murders.

Liz's death had been devastating to Frank and Sam too, especially since they felt like they should have prevented it, somehow. They were Hunters, for God's sake, with more than half a century's worth of experience between them. But Cas assured the men that no one was blaming them. How could they? With no warning and no weapons, they hadn't stood a chance. After the dust had cleared at the nature trail, Bobby had found Sam still laying in the woods where Xavier had flung him, knocked unconscious. Frank himself had emerged unscathed, but he'd been seething with anger and frustration.

Cas completely understood. He had felt all of those same feelings about the incident, most of which had gone unexpressed. He'd had to be the rock, the centre on which his human and Angel family could depend. Cas was focused on one goal, and one goal only: getting that Book of Life in his hands, and restoring the status quo. Well, at least the one that had existed before his Father had decided to start systematically eliminating Castiel's family members, one by one.

Cas was no fool, either. Like Gabriel, Castiel was well aware that the Father might very well prohibit him from such an act. But he was prepared to do anything and everything it would take to return the fallen. Well, save for one thing: Cas was not going to surrender Gail. He was hoping that God would not ask for that sacrifice, because he was not willing to give it. But, everything else was on the table.

Rob and Eric had moved the majority of their belongings to their own place by now. Frank had only been joking about needing Angelic help, and Sam and Dean had only been joking about not helping them, of course. But truthfully, the young men didn't have that much to take with them. Their possessions consisted mainly of clothes, weapons, handheld devices, and CDs to play in Rob's car.

"They play that damn music so loud that the music turns the corner before the car does," Frank joked to everyone. He picked up one of the CDs that had fallen out of the box that Gail was carrying. As soon as they'd gotten there, she had wanted to pitch in and help. Both of the young men had given their Aunt Gail a hug, but Frank had warned them not to fawn all over her. He knew his sister would be really fragile emotionally right now. In a way, it was fortunate that Angela was in her room, and she had said that she wanted to be left alone. Her Auntie Liz's death had also hit the little girl very hard, even harder than her own mother's. Liz had spent so much time with Angela that she had become a maternal figure to Frank and Jody's daughter, in many ways. Angela hadn't been able to understand what had happened to her Auntie Liz, and because no one else could really understand it either, there was a gigantic Elephant dwelling in Frank's house right now, and it wasn't named Poochie.

"'Train'," Frank remarked, looking at the CD. "Wow. Finally, a half-decent name for a band. You should hear some of the weird-ass names of the bands those guys listen to."

"Like what?" Dean said, smirking. He nudged Gail. "Psychedelic Furs? Bats On Skis?"

She smiled thinly. Dean took the box from her, moving towards the side door of the house, which was propped open for the duration of the move.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Frank said to his sister. He and Cas exchanged a brief glance, and Gail's husband slipped out the side door as well.

Gail looked up at her brother, anticipating what he was going to say. But, he surprised her. "Would you go see Angela?" he said softly.

"I thought you said she wanted to be alone," she protested, but Frank looked pointedly at his sister. "Yeah. Just like you wanted to be alone, when we were growing up."

Gail thought about that for a moment. She understood what Frank was saying. Gail hadn't necessarily WANTED to be alone, she had just...been alone. There was a distinction to be made there; a potentially very important one.

She walked down the hallway to Angela's room, tapping lightly on the closed door. "It's your Auntie Gail," she announced. "Can I come in, please?"

"Okay," Angela said in a small voice.

Gail opened the door, closing it softly behind her. Angela was sitting on the bed with Poochie and Ralph. She had a book in her hands, which she closed and put on the bed beside her. Gail smiled. Her niece had been reading aloud to her stuffed animal friends. Before she had lost her own friends to Vincent's cruelty, Gail had done that all the time. But then, her smile faded. Angela read to Poochie and Ralph because, just like Gail when she'd been Angela's age, they were the only friends she had.

Gail approached the bed and sat down next to her niece. "I'm really sad, too," she said to the young girl. "Liz was my only friend, growing up. Well, besides these guys," she added, giving Ralph a honk on his beak. "And my books."

"What about Daddy?" Angela asked her aunt.

Gail sighed. "He was older than me. It's like Rob and Eric. They love you, and they like to spend time with you, but..."

"I know," Angela said, nodding. "They're grownups, and I'm not. That's why Daddy says I should go to school and make some friends my own age." She was quiet for a moment, and then she looked up at Gail, wide-eyed. "Did you like school, Auntie Gail?"

Gail debated with herself. She didn't want to deter Angela from wanting to go, but she didn't want to lie to her, either. It wouldn't be fair to the child. They were so much alike.

"There were some things I liked about it, a lot," Gail replied. "I was really smart, like you, so I was reading way above my grade level. The teacher gave me harder and harder books to read, and she also let me help her by reading out loud to the class. But I was really shy, Angela. Now I understand that that was the teacher's way of trying to get me to interact with my classmates, but...I was too introverted. Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah," Angela said simply. Then, she sighed. "I'm scared, Auntie Gail. I'm scared the other kids won't like me. I don't know what to talk to them about. I'm not allowed to talk about you guys, or Heaven, or Demons, or - "

Gail laughed. She couldn't help it. Angela had a point. Her life was a lot more complicated than Gail's had been at that age, that was for sure. "You know what?" she said to her niece. "I used to be scared, too. I used to be scared of everything. I would read about all of these brave people having big adventures, and yet, I was too scared to leave my own house. But now, I'm not scared of anything. Your Uncle Cas and I have been all over the world on missions for Heaven, and we've dealt with all kinds of people, good and bad. Let me tell you something, Angela. You can't be afraid of life. You have to go out there and embrace it."

"But...what if something bad happens?" Angela asked Gail in her small voice.

"Then, you deal with it," Gail said firmly. She felt like laughing again. If the kid only knew. "I'll tell you what," Gail continued. "When you get a little bit older, and have about a week to spare, your Uncle Cas and I will sit down with you and tell you about a bunch of things that have happened to us. But we're still here, and we'll always be here for you, sweetie."

"What about my Mom?" Angela said, and the question was so unexpected that Gail's heart sank into her stomach. "What about Auntie Liz? They're not here now, are they? How come they died, and they're just...gone?"

Angela's eyes pooled with tears, and so did Gail's, now. Her stomach hurt again. Her niece had her, there. What was she supposed to say about that? If she and Cas got the Book of Life, and if they were able to use it the way they hoped, this could all be a moot point. But the Angels had a pact not to talk about that with anyone else. The last thing they needed was everyone getting their hopes up about having their loved ones return and then messing it up, somehow.

Gail took Angela's little hand gently in hers. "None of us will ever get over the loss of your mom," she told the girl. "Or any of our other family members, either. Never. But listen to me now, because this is very important: your mother was a very strong woman. She was never afraid to go out there and mix it up with the men, and she helped us save countless lives. Never mind ME, Angela: JODY wouldn't want you to be too afraid to go out there and live your life. Neither would your Auntie Liz. She wasn't a fighter, like me and your Mom, but she WAS going to marry your Uncle Gabriel. And if that's not brave, I don't know what is."

As Gail had been hoping, Angela giggled at that, making her Aunt smile. Then Gail said, "One thing I am sure of, though. They would be very proud of you. Like your Dad is, and me, and Uncle Cas, and everybody. And Ralph. And Poochie." She grabbed the stuffed animals and pressed them to Angela's cheeks, making kissing noises. Angela giggled again. "And, don't worry," Gail added, leaning forward. "You're going to make lots and lots of friends. And if anybody's mean to you, you let me know. Then your Uncle Cas and I might swing by, sometime. Have a little chat with them." Gail covered her mouth with her hand. "Oops. Don't tell your Dad I said that."

Angela giggled again, and then she threw her arms around Gail's neck. "I love you, Auntie Gail," she said, giving her a big, smacking kiss on the cheek.

Gail hugged Angela to her for a moment. She was really proud of her niece, too. She had no idea how Angela had been able to go through as much emotional trauma as her niece had at such a young age, yet be so resilient. Gail was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown right now, and she was a grown-up. Well, supposedly, anyway.

"Your Uncle Cas and I are going on another mission today, but hopefully, we should be back very soon," Gail told the little girl. "We'll talk again then, okay?"

"Okay," Angela said. She picked her book up again as Gail let herself out of her niece's room.

Rob and Eric were standing outside, by Rob's car. They were all loaded up now, and they had been waiting for Gail to come out of the house so that they could say goodbye to her.

"Do you need any help, you guys?" Gail asked them, and Eric grinned. "Nahh, we're fine," he told her. "Cas and Gabe already offered, but Sam and Dean are coming with us, and that's more than enough. Besides, you guys have to go someplace else, don't you, Gail?"

"Yeah, we do," Gail confirmed. She gave Rob a kiss on the cheek. "And whatever happened to 'Aunt' and 'Uncle'?"

Frank rolled his eyes. "They think they're too cool for that, now."

"No, 'we' don't; Eric does," Rob said, smirking.

"Oh, way to sell me out, bro," Eric said, grinning again.

"Let me tell you something," Gabriel piped up unexpectedly. "There is nothing more important than your family. Nothing. I had to learn that the hard way. Next time I see you, you'd better be calling me 'Uncle', or I'm gonna kick your ass. Are we clear?"

"Bravo," Frank said, applauding. "I couldn't have said it better, myself. Now get going, you chuckleheads. I'll see you later."

Rob and Eric got into their car, Sam and Dean got into the Impala, and the men roared off down the street. Frank's eyes followed them until they turned the corner, and then he heaved a sigh. "Man, I feel old," he remarked.

Gabriel barked out a laugh, as Gail's brother realized what he'd said, and to whom. He clapped the Archangel on the shoulder, smiling at him and Cas. "Well, relatively speaking, of course," Frank added.

"We'd better get going, Frank," Cas said to his brother-in-law. "We've got that mission to do."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Frank said, nodding. "Important Angel stuff. I get it." He sighed again. "That's OK, I've got some important human stuff to do. Like, take a nap." He grabbed Gail and gave her a hug. "I'll see you soon, kiddo."

"Ewww, quit slobbering all over me," she said, but she submitted to his embrace.

The ritual complete, the Angels moved to the blind spot in Frank's driveway and winked themselves away.

As trips to the Beginning of Creation went, it was fairly uneventful. Cas and Gail walked hand in hand to the tree, standing in front of it quietly. It was just an ordinary-looking tree, only made extraordinary by the event which had taken place here. Crowley's Original Sin. No wonder this location held such significance to him.

There was a knot in the tree about shoulder-height to Cas, and he stuck his hand into it cautiously. Sure enough, his fingers felt a piece of parchment there, which he drew out a moment later.

The Angels looked down at it together. "'When is a door not a door'?" Cas read aloud.

"You've got to be kidding me," Gail said, shaking her head. They had come back to the world's oldest location, only to find the world's oldest dad joke? Frank should be here.

"When it's a-jar," Gail and Cas said in unison. Then they smiled at each other. That was the first smile that had felt genuine on Gail's face since Liz had been murdered. They had the final riddle in their possession now, and the solution had been easy. They were laying in suspended animation in the bunker right now, waiting for Gabriel to bring them back to rejoin their vessels. Then, they were all going to brainstorm the solution to the Book of Life's location. Cas put the riddle in his pants pocket, taking his wife's hand. He was starting to feel more confident. This had been the easiest mission yet, and his mind was already working on the answer. Things were looking up.

"OK; we've got five words," Sam said, writing them down on a whiteboard that Gail and Cas had appropriated from Heaven's boardroom. He wrote: A, JAR, KILL, MAN, and O.

It only took a minute. "The Book of Life is on Mount Kilimanjaro," Cas announced, and the others looked at him, impressed. That had to be it.

"I'll start the research," Sam said eagerly. Then he felt a pang. It had been a while since they'd both been here together, but he missed his research buddy, Tommy. Sam glanced over at the spot where their friend used to sit, almost expecting to see him there.

Bobby had come to sit in on the session too, and he was amazed at the speed with which this whole thing was moving along. Maybe this was gonna work out after all, he thought. But he had agreed with Cas, Gail, and Gabriel that none of their other Angel or human family should be privy to the way that the Angels were hoping to use the Book once they got a hold of it.

"So, when do we leave?" Dean said.

Bobby frowned. "Whaddaya mean, 'we'?" he growled.

Dean made a face. "What do you mean, what do I mean? Me and Sammy are coming with you."

"No, you're not," Bobby told him. "I"M not even going. It's these three who are going. If the thing's up the mountain, all they've gotta do is zap themselves up there, and get it. Boom. End of story."

But Cas and Gabriel were exchanging glances now, and they asked Bobby if they could speak to him for a minute. "Continue with your research, Sam," Cas instructed the younger Winchester. He took Gail's hand, and the four Angels winked outside the bunker.

"What gives, Cas?" Bobby asked.

"I think they should come," Cas advised him.

"Why?" Bobby said, mystified.

"I want them to come," Cas insisted, "and I want Gabriel to stay here."

"What?!" Gabriel exclaimed. "What the hell are you talking about? Are you crazy? I'm coming with you."

"No," Cas said stubbornly. "I'm arranging it this way on purpose." He looked at Bobby. "I want to make sure we have a back-up system in place. Father may not be too pleased with what we plan to do with the Book. Therefore, when we get it, I plan to split it into four sections. That way, if something happens to one or more of us, some parts of the Book may still emerge intact."

"What do you mean, 'if something happens to you'?" Bobby said suspiciously, peering closer at Cas's face.

"I expect we will encounter impediments," Cas replied vaguely.

Bobby let out a frustrated breath, looking at the other two Angels. "Either of you got any idea what he's talking about?" Gail shrugged, but Gabriel said soberly, "Yeah, I've got a couple of ideas." Then he looked at Cas. "Which is all the more reason you need me there."

"No," Cas insisted again. "I need you HERE. In case I don't make it back, I'll need you to help by dealing with that other little matter that's going to come up in a few years."

Gabriel looked puzzled, and then it dawned on him: Cas was talking about Brian. In case Cas got the ultimate Time Out when Dad caught him trying to use the Book of Life to restore their family members, it would be up to Gabriel to make sure that the Chosen One killed the Beast. Great. Maybe Sam shouldn't come back from Africa, either; not if it was just to watch his son die. Weren't these great times they were living in? Gabe thought sarcastically.

Bobby let out another frustrated breath as he watched Gabriel give Cas a slight nod of acknowledgement. He had no idea what was going on with those two, half the time. Bobby was the one who was supposed to be God, but that didn't seem to matter here. The only consolation Bobby had was that Gail was eyeing the men curiously, too.

But they had a Heavenly mission to get done, and Dean and Sam were grown men. If they were willing to put themselves on the line for whatever this was turning out to be, Bobby wasn't going to stand in the way.

"I'm gonna go back to Heaven," the reigning God announced. "You guys can let me know when you're ready to leave." He promptly disappeared.

"I think he's mad at us," Gabriel said to the couple.

"Brian is like his own grandson," Cas pointed out. "I didn't particularly feel like enlightening him at the moment. I just thought we should try to handle one crisis at a time."

"What did you mean by 'impediments'?" Gail said warily. "And what do you mean, 'if you don't come back'?"

"Nothing, my love. I was just overstating the point, so that Bobby would let me handle the mission the way I want to," Cas said glibly.

Gail was gazing at her husband. Really? He was really going with that as his answer?

She was silent for the moment, but Gabriel was not. "No, Cas. You're not gonna do that. If you're going to drag her along on this folly, she should know what could happen. She should know what she might be signing on for, and so should those flannel-wrapped guys in there."

Cas's lips pressed together tightly. "It's me who our Father wants to punish, Gabriel. Me. Sam and Dean are coming as..." What? Bait? "...backup. And so is Gail. I love her, and I trust her, and I want her with me. Lanister, Xavier, Mark and Patricia are all still out there. Oh, and so is Vincent, in case you have forgotten. She's coming with me," Cas insisted stubbornly.

Gabriel let out a breath. He felt a pain in his gut thinking about Liz's killer being out there somewhere. Bobby didn't know where any of them were. None of them. It was insane. Since when was God so blind? But Bobby had no clue. Ever since he'd taken the oath of the Office the second time, he'd noticed that some of the Godly powers he'd held before were gone, or they were severely eroded. Gabriel, Cas, and even Gail seemed to have greater powers than Bobby did now. That was a closely guarded secret, of course. If it got out, that would be all they would need. But the fact remained that Bobby didn't have The Eye for locating individuals any more, nor could he hear others' thoughts. Not that he really minded losing that latter ability. It had generally just been a big pain in the keister.

Gail put her hand on Gabriel's arm. "Thanks for looking out for me, but it's OK," she told her Angel Brother. "I may not know everything, but I know enough. If Cas is willing to risk himself to bring them all back, so am I. If God's going to go after anyone, it'll be one of us, if not both. Maybe if that happens, Sam and Dean can take what's left of the Book and use it."

Gabe eyed her and Cas dubiously. Their naivete was astounding. This was God they were talking about. God. The Almighty. Did they honestly think they were going to be able to play Button-Button-Who's-Got-The-Button with the Creator Himself? Hoo, boy. And people thought that it was Gabriel who had a screw loose.

But, what the hell. Gabriel wasn't going to be there, was he? He was taking the coward's way out. Surprise, surprise. Of course, taking on the Beast of the Apocalypse was an important job too, even if Gabe was merely going to be a teenage boy's assistant for the occasion.

Cas took Gail's hand. "Let's go back inside," he said tersely.

Alice was back home now, resting after her latest excursion. This had been a longer and more arduous one. She'd had to fly overseas to Dover, England for the next one on her list, and because she was unable to take a weapon with her on the airplane, she'd had to plan it out much more meticulously.

His name had been Noah, ironically enough, and he had worked in a clothing store. A pedestrian job, to be sure, but there was a reason that he worked there. Noah was a low-grade psychic, and he sold suits to men, and women, who worked in high finance. When he touched his clients to take their measurements for sizing or alterations, Noah would read their thoughts as to which stocks or commodities were on the rise, and which were about to fizzle. Then he would drive to London on one of his off days and invest accordingly. So far, Noah's nest egg was doing quite well, but he'd continued to work, because he didn't feel like he had enough to quit, yet.

So Alice had done her due diligence, and once she had established Noah's routine, she waited one night until his last customer had left the store. Then she had discreetly locked the door and pulled down the blinds when Noah had gone to the back room of the store. And then she had gone back there, carrying one of the heavy vases the store used for decorative purposes, smashed it over Noah's head from behind, and strangled him to death with his own tape measure.

She'd contemplated going to France next, but had ultimately decided against it. Alice had been watching the news from her English hotel room, and she'd seen Benoit Levesque with his "son" Gerard, and with members of his cabinet, at least two of whom she recognized as being on her list, as Gerard himself was. She had known that a smallish number of Vincent's bastards had been absconded by a couple of his erstwhile "colleagues", to use the term loosely. But the fact that they were firmly ensconced within the protections of the reigning government of France had thrown her for a loop. How on earth was she supposed to get around security like THAT?

So Alice had moved that daunting task to the bottom of her To Do list for the time being and flown back home to regroup. Those people would still be there when she worked out what to do about them.

She'd been on the computer at her dining room table, editing the list and contemplating her next target, when there was a knock at the front door. Alice lowered the lid of her laptop and went to answer the door.

It was Eric, and his brother Rob. "Hi, Mom," her adoptive son said. "Can we come in?"

Alice was taken completely by surprise. She hadn't seen Eric since their last uncomfortable encounter here in the house. Didn't the boy know how to pick up a phone? And Rob was looking at her with a strange expression on his face, almost as if he knew what she had been doing. And maybe he did. Rob was one of the two remaining psychics on the list. With Noah's elimination, that left 22 children to go, two of whom had just walked into her house.

Eric's mother put a pot of coffee on, telling the boys that they would have to drink it black. She had been out of town visiting relatives, and she hadn't had time to go to the grocery store.

They had sat at the kitchen table making small talk, but the conversation was stilted and uneasy. Alice didn't really want to hear about their lives, or their family back in Kansas. She'd had to distance herself emotionally from Eric so that she would one day be able to kill him. And the longer she sat here, with Rob's eyes boring into her, the worse she felt.

When she couldn't take it any longer, Alice left the table and went upstairs to the washroom, relieving herself. Then she washed her face and hands, staring at herself in the mirror. They had to die sooner or later, Alice told herself. They all had to die, or what she was doing would be meaningless. What did it matter whether it was now, or at a future time? Time was not going to alter the facts. Those young men were Vincent's children, and their continued existence was his insurance. If she were to do her duty right now, there would only be 20 of them left. Less than two dozen away from ensuring that Vincent would be gone forever. And there would never be a better time. They had advised her that they were out on their own now, and they'd swung by here purely on impulse. No one knew they were here. If they were to go missing, it couldn't be traced back to her.

Eric told his brother he was going to go to the bathroom, and then they could say their goodbyes and get out of there. He didn't know why he kept on trying. Every time he came here, his mom made him feel like he was intruding on her life, or something. He wasn't really sure what her problem was, but Gabriel's speech about family had been weighing on his mind. So he'd persuaded Rob to fire up the car once they had dumped their belongings in the new place and had a beer with their Uncles Sam and Dean. Eric had still thought that he and his mom could get along better, and since they had lost so many family members recently, he'd wanted to try again. But Eric had finally had to acknowledge the apparent fact that his adoptive mom wasn't really interested in getting along any better. It was a shame, but he was done trying.

Eric saw that his mom was still in the washroom when he went upstairs, so he waited out in the hallway for a minute. Then his eyes drifted to his old room. The door was closed, but curiosity overwhelmed him now, with a faint whiff of nostalgia. He remembered teleporting out of there late at night, to go hang out with friends. He smiled. It was funny, really; Eric didn't remember the last time he had teleported. He didn't really feel like doing it any more. Having that ability had been kind of cool when he'd been young. But Eric and Rob had had a lot of conversations about how it felt to be different than other people, all because they'd had the bad luck to have a douchebag voodoo nutcase as their biological father. How people made you feel like a freak, even your own loved ones. Rob had confessed how some people in his family, even his Dad, had looked to him to tell them what was going to happen in the future. Well, maybe Rob didn't want to know. When Lucifer had been out there wreaking havoc on the Earth, Rob had still been just a kid. Was it fair that a little kid should have to see such horrifying stuff? Eric hadn't really experienced any adverse consequences due to his ability to teleport, he'd told his brother, feeling bad for Rob. Really? Rob had said, raising an eyebrow. What would Eric call being herded into a compound, held prisoner, tested up the wazoo, and almost being exploded? Eric had laughed wryly. OK; he could see Rob's point.

Eric walked over to his old room and opened the door, curious to see if it was still the same, or if she'd changed it into a sewing room, or something. He stood there, astonished, as he looked around at the walls. The place looked like a war room. There were maps on the walls, and pictures of people. His eyes shifted to the far wall, where his bed used to be. There was a cabinet there, now. Alice had left the doors to it open, preparing to do an inventory after her computer update was done. Eric was open-mouthed when he saw what was in it: guns, knives, bullets...was he back in the damn bunker, all of a sudden? What was his mom doing with all this stuff?

Alice approached her son quietly from behind. She'd come out from the bathroom and seen where he had gone, so she had followed him. "This isn't your room anymore," she remarked, stalling for time.

Eric smiled. "I can see that," he replied. He turned around to look at her. "Are you a Hunter, Mom?"

She was a little taken aback by his question. She moved past him to the cabinet. "In a manner of speaking," she said vaguely.

Incredibly, Eric laughed. "So are me and Rob!" he told her.

"What?!" Alice exclaimed. She had, somewhat irrationally, moved to the cabinet to close its open doors, but she wheeled on her son now.

"We hunt monsters, too," Eric said, still smiling. He put his mother's reaction down to the fact that they'd never had this conversation before. But, it was weird: she hadn't been one, when he was growing up here. There was no way she could have hidden that from him and his Dad. But then Eric remembered that Sam and Dean's father had successfully hidden his Hunting activities from them for a while, and so had Frank's father, from him.

Alice's blood ran cold. Her son and his brother hunted "monsters"? Clearly, he was referring to supernatural creatures. The irony, or the hypocrisy, maybe, was staggering. Abominations, hunting monsters.

Eric approached his adoptive mother, still smiling. It was a shame he wasn't the psychic. He had no idea what was going through her mind. None.

Alice made up her mind: it had to be quick, and it had to be now. She grabbed a gun from the cabinet's top shelf, threw the safety, and shot Eric in the shoulder, then again in the abdomen, as her hand was jolted from the recoil of the weapon.

Eric was so shocked that he froze for a moment, looking down at himself. Alice was staring at him. She was shocked, too. She had shot her son. Her own son. What was the matter with her?

But Eric WASN'T her son, was he? He was Vincent's. She fired wildly one more time, and then Rob burst into the room. Alice hadn't had the time to put the silencer on, and he'd heard the shots from downstairs. So he had run out of the kitchen and taken the steps two and three at a time. Rob WAS the psychic, but he'd had no clue. None at all. He'd felt the discomfort at the kitchen table too, but there had been nothing to alarm him, not really. Rob had gotten a bit of a vibe from Eric's mom, but he'd just assumed that she was a little pissed off that her son had basically deserted her for another family. That was the main reason he hadn't protested more when Eric had said that he wanted to come here. Even though Rob wasn't sure he liked Alice a whole lot, he'd felt a bit sorry for her. And Uncle Gabriel's comments about family had affected Rob, too.

Alice was still holding the gun, and she was looking at Rob now. So Eric did the only thing he could do: he gave his brother a mighty shove backwards out of the room, and then he lunged at the door, slamming it shut. Then he half-dove, half-fell against the door. He was greying out now, but Eric still had the presence of mind to pray out loud.

Rob was praying on the other side of the door too, yelling for Bobby, his Uncles Cas and Gabriel, and his Aunt Gail. Someone. Anyone.

All four of them popped into the house at the same moment, blades at the ready. But Alice was prepared for that, too. She had a gris-gris bag in her hand and she broke it open now, filling the room with dark black smoke. Then she threw it on the floor, saying the words she had learned at the seance she'd gone to in New Orleans earlier this year. Words that were powerful, because she'd learned them from Marie Laveau, herself. The Winchesters thought they had killed the ancient witch in that graveyard, but the Winchesters were wrong.

By the time the Angels could see through the acrid smoke, Alice was long gone. Bobby bent over and picked Eric up in his arms, as gently as he could. "Take Rob to the nearest hospital," he said tersely, and then he and Eric were gone.

They were all waiting nervously in the waiting room at the hospital while Eric was in surgery. Rob was sitting in a chair with a blanket wrapped around him, shaking violently. It was August in Florida, yet he couldn't stop shivering. It was shock, Frank told his son. Cas had gone to get Rob's father at the house in Kansas and brought him here. Bobby had examined every inch of Rob, and the boy didn't have a scratch on him. Eric had saved Rob from being shot by his quick actions, not only by making sure that his brother ended up on the other side of that door, but by giving the Angels the exact location of his mother's house in his prayers.

"I'm freaking out, Dad," Rob said, rocking side to side in his chair. Frank put his arm around his son, pulling the blanket tighter around Rob's thin frame. Maybe Frank should insist that Rob drink less beer and eat some mashed potatoes, once in a while. The kid drank like Dean, but he ate like Sam. Mostly salads, and lean stuff. Rabbit food. Of course, as far as the booze went, Rob was young, too. At this age, Rob could eat pretty much whatever he wanted, if he wanted, and drink alcohol every day, and not gain an ounce. Must be nice.

Bobby had been in his office with Kevin when the boys' prayers had come in. He had told Kevin to go to Frank's house and wait there for further instructions, and Kevin was currently babysitting Angela, while Frank sat the vigil here at the hospital with Rob and the rest of them. Angela knew Kevin, of course. She just didn't know him all that well. But there hadn't been time to pick and choose, and besides, Kevin had done a little more translating from the pages in the red file, and he said he had some information that Cas and the others needed to hear before they left for Africa.

"She shot him three times, Dad," Rob fretted, still rocking. "Three times."

"He's gonna be all right," Frank comforted his son. "You got shot too, remember? But you were okay, weren't you?" Yeah, well...Frank was on shakier ground, now. It was actually a miracle that Rob had survived. He and Jody had been so scared there for a while. If it hadn't been for...his head snapped up. Where was Gail?

Frank's sister was already on it. Of course! She was an idiot. Eric was her half-brother too, wasn't he? If her blood had helped to heal Rob when he'd been shot, she saw no reason why it couldn't do the same for Eric. She rushed over to the nurses' station, looking for someone who could take her blood.

Cas was right behind his wife, wanting desperately to do something to help. He was very afraid. The talk about Rob's shooting had brought back the awful memory of that terrible arrangement Castiel had made with the Demon Rudy, that had led to the attack on Rob, Gail, and Dean. Just one more item on the long list of things he had to atone for. But it was Cas who the Father should be punishing, not Chuck, or Jody, or Tommy, or Liz, or...No. That wasn't it, not at all. It was the living who were being punished, because the survivors were the ones who would have the deaths of their loved ones etched into their memories forever.

Finally, a doctor came out to talk to them. "Are you Eric's family?" he said to Frank, who had risen to his feet. Rob followed suit, letting the blanket fall off his shoulders.

"All of us are," Frank stated. "I'm his father, and this is his brother. His mother is..." a psychotic bitch, Frank said to himself. "...deceased," he finished aloud.

"I'm his sister," Gail piped up. "I'll give you as much blood as you need."

The surgeon frowned. These were the cases he hated the most. A young man just entering the prime of his life, with a large, loving family. Shot multiple times, for no reason that was apparent. Most of the gunshot victims that came in here were in the drug trade, and many of them were slackers, without much of a reason to live. Just the other day, an unshaven, unshowered young man had been brought in, shot numerous times. The cops had dumped the guy in the ER, and then went screeching back into the mean streets. An all-too-typical summer night. Emergency personnel had rushed forward to take the young victim to surgery, but then they had checked for his vitals and realized that their haste was pointless. One of the nurses pulled the sheet over the young man's face and moved the gurney they had put him on when he'd been brought in to the side, so there would be more room to help the patients who were still alive. She'd had a moment of faint amusement when she had noted the name on his gold necklace: "NUKE". Hopefully, that was his gang name.

Still, Dr. Raines had thought that young Eric would be salvageable. His wounds had been less severe, and his physique and general appearance suggested that Eric took care of himself. But when they had opened him up, the internal damage had been much worse than they'd thought. The young man had arrested once near the beginning of the operation, and Dr. Raines had been able to use the de-fib to bring him back. But then, when Eric had gone into arrest the second time, they'd been unable to save the young man. After working feverishly on him for God only knew how long, the doctor'd had no choice but to pronounce Eric dead.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Raines said to the family now. "We did everything we could."

Gail's eyes widened. They'd said the exact same thing when Tommy had died. The exact same thing. Did they teach that in medical school? One hundred meaningless phrases to say to heartbroken people, that were of no comfort whatsoever?

Cas swore under his breath in Enochian. He looked at Gabriel. The Archangel gave his Brother a slight nod of acknowledgement. Cas gave Gail's hand a squeeze, telling her on their frequency that he and Gabriel would be right back.

Gail gave her husband's hand a return squeeze and then let go. She knew what he and Gabriel were thinking, and she fully approved.

So, as Gail moved forward to comfort Rob, the two Angels popped themselves back to Alice's house, weapons at the ready. But they had waited too long. Alice, her weapons, and her laptop were all gone.


	8. Ascent Into Madness

Chapter 8 - Ascent Into Madness

"What do you mean?" Cas said angrily.

Kevin sighed. He knew how upset Cas was about this latest death. Another murder. But, hey, at least they knew who had killed Eric. Poor Emma's murder remained unsolved. Then again, dead was dead, wasn't it? Kevin had no idea what the hell was going on with their family, lately. So many of them had died in such a short time frame, and he had no idea why. Kevin had tried to sit down and do his Prophet thing, but whenever he'd tried to have a vision, all he had been able to see was death and destruction. They had been warned, but they had paid no heed. That phrase kept going through his head, but he had no idea what it meant. And then, he saw in his mind's eye the anagram that he and Emma had translated from the Texts:

"But only one key opens.  
Fail to heed,  
Everything Dies.  
Earth, annihilated.  
Destroyed."

Kevin had been working constantly since Emma's murder on the translations from the red file, hoping that he could find a clue in there, anything that might tell them what his friend could possibly have died for. Now, he was facing Cas and Gail, telling them what he had found. And Cas was not happy about it.

"I told you, Cas. You can't just pop up to the summit. The four of you will have to physically do the climb. 'Only those who succeed in the ascent will be proven worthy enough to put the Book to use. All four must climb, and all four must descend. The Book will not open until the foot of the last will touch the forest floor'. That's what it says, clear as day. I used the glossary Metatron wrote to fill in the blanks. The Book is in the crater, of the highest part of the mountain."

Cas was frowning deeply now. He studied the text, his forehead wrinkling in concentration. He didn't necessarily think that Kevin's translation was incorrect; he just didn't like what he was hearing. If the four of them had to make the ascent the human way, it would be arduous, and it would take longer. But it appeared that they would have to do it, if they hoped to achieve the goal. There went his idea to split the Book into four sections, though. They would not even be able to open the Book until they all came down together. Well, perhaps that was for the best, after all. Cas hadn't relished the prospect of sending Gail off by herself with one-quarter of the veritable lightning rod that the Book of Life was bound to be. Nor Dean, nor Sam, either. Ammit and Raguel may be dead now, but Patricia was out there somewhere, wasn't she? Castiel was highly suspicious of her intentions. They'd known that she had been keeping company with Raguel, and that the now-dead Archangel had supplied Patricia with Chuck's Grace. That meant that she would be able to access Heaven now. Laurel hadn't said anything to anyone about her previous encounters with Patricia there, for reasons that were unclear, even to Laurel herself. Might Patricia not want to get her hands on the Book of Life, Cas reasoned, and use it to change her own circumstance? Might she not even have killed Emma, if the young Angel had discovered the woman there, where she was not supposed to be? While Cas had every sympathy for Patricia as far as what Lucifer had done to her, he believed that the woman was seriously unbalanced, and that she would not necessarily stop there. What if Patricia were to use the Book to become God again, and to reinstate her totalitarian regime in Heaven? What would become of Cas and Gail then?

And now, there were also Lanister, Xavier, and Mark to be concerned with. They had obviously made their escape from Hell with or without Crowley's tacit approval, and were once again proving to be a threat. Well, Lanister was, anyway. Without Jason around to do his dirty work for him, Lanister had apparently decided to take matters into his own hands. But rather than killing Gail outright, Lanister had killed Liz, because he'd known that her death would make Gail suffer. That was exactly what Jason would have done. And, truth be told, that was exactly the kind of thing Castiel would have done, too.

As far as Xavier and Mark went, Cas wasn't as worried about their potential for violence. Xavier had always used words and antiquated laws as his weapons. His potential for moral outrage was unlimited, but without any power to back up his viewpoint, Xavier was rather inconsequential, in Castiel's opinion. Xavier should update his methods and enter the world of social media, Cas thought with grim humour. Rob and Eric had educated their Uncle Cas on some modern terms, one of which was "social justice warrior", or "SJW", for short. That was the term for the kind of person who went online and whipped people into a frenzy, taking up a particular cause to champion. Well, wasn't that a good thing? Cas had asked the young men, perplexed. Sometimes, they had said. But many times, an SJW would get carried away with their perceived power and influence, and use it to either push forward a personal agenda, or to judge others severely based on their own moral standards. Yes, Xavier would make an ideal SJW, Cas thought, with what he felt was just the proper amount of resentment.

But even as Cas had those thoughts, he had to be very careful not to let his feelings of rage about certain things consume him. If they didn't have the prospect of the imminent retrieval of the Book of Life to look forward to, Castiel would be a hands-on, in-person SJW right now, and he would be using his blade, not his words. The systematic elimination of their family members could not be allowed to stand, or at the very least, to go unavenged. Whether they were able to bring back the fallen or not, Castiel would be only too happy to exact justice on their behalf.

And there was still Vincent to be considered, too. It was very easy to forget about Gail's father during his periods of absence. What was he doing? What was he planning?

"What are you planning to do, Cas?" Kevin asked him, jolting Cas out of his thoughts. Odd that he had used almost the same words as Cas had been thinking with regard to Vincent.

Gail looked at Kevin sharply. What did he know? He was a Prophet. Had he seen what they were planning to do with the Book?

Kevin hadn't, but he was suspicious. The two of them were acting very strange. They had come back to Frank's house immediately after learning of Eric's death, with Gabriel in tow, telling Kevin that they had to talk, right now. Bobby had advised the Angels that Kevin had important information about the mission. Gabe had said that he would sit with Angela while the three of them went up to Heaven, to talk in private. Bobby was still in Florida with Frank and Rob, sorting out the paperwork and the retrieval of Eric's body at the hospital.

Young Kevin had been taken aback by the fact that they had left Gail's grieving family members so quickly to talk to him about some translations, and he was even more astonished when Cas told him that they were planning to leave for Africa right away. What about Eric's funeral?

Now, of course, there would have to be a slight delay, while they had Sam do some more research on Mount Kilimanjaro and how to climb it. If this had been a less grim mission, Cas could have told his companions that they could cross another item off their Never Have I Ever lists. He himself had climbed mountains before, back in Biblical times.

"I'm planning to obtain the Book of Life, that's what I'm planning to do," Cas replied, tight-lipped. "Anything else is Classified." He took Gail's hand and popped her to the bunker, impatient to start on their journey. Kevin stared at the empty space where they had been standing, and he was open-mouthed. Oh, there was something fishy going on here, all right. He sighed. Maybe it was just as well that he wasn't privy to the details. Lately, the higher the rank, the more stressed-out the Angels looked. Bobby, Gabriel, Cas and Gail all walked around looking like the end of the world was coming any minute now. And from what Kevin had seen in his visions, they might just be right.

Sam and Dean had been shocked to the core when Cas had called, telling them about Eric's death at his adoptive mother's hands. Their hearts hurt for Frank, who had suffered more than his share of sadness when Jody had died. But they felt especially bad for Rob. Each of the brothers had lost the other at different points in their lives, and there was no emptier feeling in the world. Sam and Dean had regarded Rob and Eric as a younger version of themselves, and they couldn't even imagine how Rob was dealing, right now.

Luckily, their de facto nephew had Frank and Bobby for support, because Cas had advised that he needed Sam to find out as much information as he could about how to successfully scale Mount Kilimanjaro, as safely and as quickly as possible.

Sam had done the research, but Dean was angry when Cas and Gail showed up, and Cas was asking if the brothers were ready to go.

"What do you mean, 'are we ready to go'?" Dean said, incredulous. "What about Rob, and Frank?"

"Bobby's with them," Cas said, somewhat obtusely.

Whether that was on purpose or not mattered little to Dean. "What about Eric? What about his mother?" he shouted.

"We have no idea where Eric's mother is, at the moment," Cas answered in an even tone.

"Don't yell at us, Dean," Gail admonished their friend. "Aren't things bad enough right now?"

He stared at her. "So, your half-brother was murdered, and so was Liz, and so was Emma, and we're going mountain climbing?"

"This mission is vitally important, Dean," Cas said, his jaw working furiously. "You do not have to remind us of the losses our family has suffered. We are well aware. Nevertheless, we are going to ascend Mount Kilimanjaro, and we are going to do it today. So I would invite you to sit down and listen to Sam, so that you will know what to pack."

Dean continued to stare at the Angels for a minute. They took their usual seats, looking at Sam expectantly. Dean let out a frustrated breath, throwing his hands up in the air. Was everybody freaking crazy around here, all of a sudden? But he sat down, because he didn't see much of a choice.

Now it was Sam who was staring at their Angel friends. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Gail. He was starting to get an inkling of an inkling that there was a lot more to their mission than they were letting on. Why were they so hell-bent on dropping everything and getting the Book of Life? Sam had done a little independent research on the subject, and his resources suggested that Christian ideologies held the belief that the Book of Life was supposedly where God had recorded the name of every person who was destined for Heaven. Maybe that was why Cas wanted it so badly. Were he and Gail trying to figure out why Bobby hadn't been able to find Jody or any of the others in the Garden?

But Cas had That Look on his face now, and Sam knew that their friend wasn't in the mood to have a theological discussion at the moment. Sam could understand Dean's feelings of anger and frustration, but sometimes, that was the wrong approach when it came to their Angel friends. If they were going to have to make this climb, as Cas was insisting, there would be time during the ascent to pry the information out of them.

"Mount Kilimanjaro, or just 'Kilimanjaro', as the locals call it, is a dormant volcano in Tanzania. It's the highest mountain in Africa. Its highest point is 19,341 feet," Sam began. "That's Uhuru Peak, on Kibo's crater."

Whatever, Dean thought. If he wasn't feeling so low, he might have given his brother a hard time about being such a geek. But something Sam had said had gotten Dean's attention. "Volcano?" he said, sputtering on the gulp of beer he had taken. "What the hell?!"

"Don't worry," Sam said, his lips twitching briefly. "The last eruption was between 150,000 and 200,000 years ago." He glanced at Gail. "The summit will be cold. I'm talking ice-and-snow kind of cold. You said the Book's in the crater on the summit, right?"

Cas nodded. "That is what Kevin advised, yes."

Sam was thoughtful for a moment. Then he sighed. "It'll take us about a week to reach the summit. We'll have to be prepared for high elevation, lower and lower temperatures the higher we get, and the occasional wind gusts. At least it won't be the rainy season yet. Oh, and there's altitude sickness, too. That's why the ascent should be gradual."

"Altitude sickness? What's that?" Gail asked curiously. "Should Cas and I worry about it?"

"It is what it sounds like," Sam replied. "Some people are more susceptible than others. You and Cas occupy human vessels, so I guess it's possible you could get it. The symptoms include headaches, fatigue, sleep disturbance...okay, well, THAT one wouldn't apply to you guys. It'll feel sort of like a hangover, if you remember what that feels like."

Cas shuddered slightly. "I'll never forget," he remarked, and they all exchanged glances, smiling faintly. But then, their smiles faded just as quickly. It just felt wrong to feel amused right now, so soon after their latest loss.

"Altitude sickness is uncomfortable, but you'll know it's starting to get serious if you start coughing, and run a high fever. Other symptoms are an unsteady gait, or retinal hemorrhage. Once it gets to that point, it can be fatal. That's why it's recommended to do a gradual ascent. It acclimates you more," Sam went on. "The mountain is pretty impressive, though. Look." He turned the laptop around to show the others some images of it that he had gotten from Google.

It was, but Gail noticed something else in some of the pictures now, and it made her a bit nervous. "What kind of wildlife do they have there?" she asked.

"There won't be much, higher up the mountain," Sam assured her. "The elephants and zebras and Cape buffaloes are mainly in the forests, and in the lower parts of the mountain."

"There may be dik-diks higher up, but they won't bother us," Cas added. "They're herbivores."

Dean looked at him. "Dick-dicks? Really?"

"Yes, Dean. They are small antelopes," Cas replied, missing the inference. "As I said, they won't be of any danger to us, but they can be used as a source of food, if need be. So can the chameleons, or the Kilimanjaro shrew."

Gail eyed her husband dubiously. Chameleons? Shrews? Great. She wondered what else could be up there that he wasn't telling her about. Well, at least she wouldn't have to try eating one. Thank goodness she and Cas didn't sleep, though, or she might have to worry about one of THEM eating HER. Now she felt incredibly sad. There should be a big group of them here, bantering about everything they were finding out about the site of their latest mission. Tommy should be sitting across from Sam with his own laptop open, trying to keep them all on topic by speaking in his schoolteacher's voice. Frank and Dean and Gabriel should be cracking jokes about dik-diks, with Jody rolling her eyes and telling them they weren't funny. But then she and Gail would exchange glances, and they would be trying not to smile. Liz would giggle, and Emma would come up with an obscure fact or two about some kind of weird African bird that nobody gave a crap about. But they would listen, anyway. Then Eric would say he couldn't wait to hear all about their latest adventures, and he would hand Rob another beer as the young men smiled at each other, knowing that they would be having lots of adventures of their own in the future.

Gail brushed away the tears that were forming in her eyes. No. Now wasn't the time to have a meltdown. They were just about to embark on the most important mission they could ever undertake, and she needed to be clear-headed and pay attention.

Sam seemed to intuit what Gail was thinking, or maybe he was just having a few struggles of his own. He was silent for a moment, and then he cleared his throat and continued, "Like I said, the rainy season doesn't start until November, so at least we're going at a good time, climate-wise. But we'll have to dress in layers. The jungle floor at the base of the mountain will be hot and humid, but the temperature at the summit could be as cold as 17 degrees. Remember Ottawa? Not quite as cold as there, at least not statistically, but it could feel like that, depending on the winds. Have you still got your earmuffs, Gail? Or did they whizz off somewhere, never to be seen again?"

Gail gave her friend a sad smile. She knew what he was trying to do, and she appreciated it. It was still too soon for her, though. Frank had been pouring drinks and cracking jokes the night of Jody's funeral. The very same night. How had he DONE that? And how was he doing now, after this latest blow? How was Rob doing?

"We're going to have to get some equipment," Sam announced. "Hiking boots, cold weather gear, food, and water. A water purifier. And tents, and sleeping bags."

Gail sighed. Great. Sitting on a sleeping bag on the cold, rocky ground, looking out for wild animals. Did they sell double sleeping bags? Then at least she could cuddle and talk with Cas, and if anything came along, he could either calm it, or kill it.

"There are six 'official' routes, with guides and pointers to accompany you. But I think we should map out our own way," Sam remarked. "I'm pretty sure we don't want to involve anybody else in something like this. Right, Cas?"

Cas had his chin in his hand, lost in thought. He didn't respond to what Sam had said, so the younger Winchester gave a half-shrug, and went on with his virtual soliloquy: "We'll also need flashlights, sunscreen, and sunglasses, to prevent snow blindness."

"Toilet paper," Dean piped up, and Sam's lips twitched slightly. He dutifully wrote it down on the list, though. His brother had a point.

"So, that's about it," Sam said, "unless anybody has any questions?"

The three of them sat there, glumly silent. Sam sighed again, tearing the sheet of paper off the notepad, where he had been making a list of the things they would need to purchase for the climb. He slid the piece of paper over to Dean.

His brother looked at him. "What?" Dean said blankly.

"I'm going to need you to get this stuff for us," Sam said, frowning. "I need to go over and see Brian before we go."

Another silence. Not all of the Elephants were in Tanzania. But Dean let out a breath, and then he grabbed the list. "This is a lot of stuff," he grumbled. He looked at the Angels. "A little help, here?"

Cas was still brooding, seemingly oblivious of his surroundings. Gail touched him on the arm, and he started. Wow. He really HAD been deep in thought.

"I can pop Sam over to Becky's place, if you want to help Dean get the supplies," Gail told her husband. "I wanted to go to Frank's place for a minute before we go, anyway."

Cas nodded soberly. "Fine. Let's go, Dean." He stood from his chair, leaned down and gave Gail a kiss on the forehead, and then he and Dean walked down the hallway towards the garage.

Sam opened his mouth. "Don't, Sam," Gail said, holding up her hand. "I see that look in your eyes. Don't ask me anything right now. Just...please."

He rose from his chair. "OK, Gail. OK. Let's go to Becky's." He pulled out his cell phone to give Becky the heads-up.

Becky had been surprised to hear from Sam, but it was a good thing that he had called ahead. It was Becky's day for surprises, it seemed. Right after Sam's call, there had been a knock at her door, and Becky had looked up, startled. It couldn't be Sam, already; she'd told him to come in about twenty minutes, and he always honoured her requests, no questions asked. And nobody else came over, not even Cas, any more. Gail must be keeping him away.

Who could it be, then? Brian was upstairs napping, so Becky had taken the opportunity to have a snack. She had been in the kitchen finishing her chicken livers when the knock came. She dropped the last one onto the plate, washed her hands of the blood, and threw the organ in the garbage under the sink. Eating bloody animal organs was gross to some people, but they sold them at the butcher's, and a lot of people ate them, the butcher said. Becky knew that Sam thought it was yucky, so she hid the evidence from him whenever he came over. But still, it could be worse. Every now and then, she still succumbed to her urges for fresher meat, but she was very careful when she did that. Sam reluctantly accepted the fact that she ate the animal organs, but Becky knew there was no way that he would accept her eating live animals. Fortunately, he had never asked her about that again after that one time at the bunker, because she had no explanation that she thought would be acceptable to him. She just felt an overwhelming need to do it every now and then. That was Becky's dirty little secret, but she figured that nobody needed to know about it. They were only animals, anyway. And it wasn't like she did it all the time, or anything.

No, it wasn't that Becky was afraid that her dark secret would be discovered; she was just afraid that Sam would somehow find out that Brian had been eating the same animals, and drinking their blood, too.

It had started out so innocently. Becky had set the trap out in the backyard, rationalizing that if anything entered her property, she couldn't be held responsible for what happened to it. She had a little baby to keep safe. So she had checked and checked the trap, and a couple of days later, she had been rewarded. One of the neighbourhood cats had gotten caught in the trap. It was still alive, but very weak, so Becky had brought it into the house, trap and all, and put it in the kitchen sink. Then she had taken one of her big butcher knives and stabbed it, filling up a glass with its blood. She drank half of it down eagerly, and then Brian had started to cry. She had him in his bassinet on the kitchen table. Becky had moved to him immediately. She had found that when she didn't, things happened around the house. One time, she had been filing her nails, and she was on the last one when Brian had started to fuss. She'd ignored him, and then all of a sudden, she was plunging the file into the back of her hand. Ow! That had hurt, a lot. One other time, she'd been so tired that she'd fallen asleep in front of the TV, and when Brian had started fussing, she hadn't heard him. But then, all of a sudden, the volume on the TV had gone up full blast, scaring her so badly that she'd fallen off the couch and opened up a cut on her leg on the sharp corner of the coffee table.

It was strange, too. Brian used to be so quiet. Everybody'd talked about it. They had never seen a baby who never cried, before. But ever since it had been just the two of them here in the house, Brian had become more and more needy. Demanding her attention. And upset when he didn't get his way, right away.

So Becky had rushed to Brian without even washing the cat's blood off her hands, and when she'd moved to pick him up, his little hands had closed in on hers and he'd brought her fingers to his mouth. He had suckled on her bloody fingers just like he was drinking from a bottle, and then he had laughed and kicked his little feet furiously. Then he had said, "More."

Becky knew that she shouldn't be doing it, but Brian just looked so happy, and he wasn't crying any more. So she put some of the cat's blood in a bottle for him, and he'd finished it all.

Becky knew it was weird, and creepy, and wrong. But she was the one who had to live with him. She was the only one who suffered the consequences that would ensue when her son didn't get what he wanted. There had been a couple more incidents like that one, and now, Becky didn't even wait for Brian to raise a fuss any more. She just automatically brought him a bottle of blood, and when he said "Meat," she chopped up whatever kind of animal it had been into smaller pieces, and fed him some of those. She didn't know how he was eating it, unless he had some teeth coming in, maybe. When did babies start getting their teeth?

But Becky hadn't bothered Googling the answer to that question, or to many of the other million or so questions she had about her and Sam's son. When it came to things that were normal for babies, Brian had left "Normal" in the rearview mirror a long time ago. The fact that he spoke the occasional word when he really wasn't supposed to be speaking for a while yet, for instance. And the fact that Becky seemed to suffer some kind of injury every time Brian was unhappy about something. Wasn't that really why she had fed him with the animal flesh and blood? Because she was afraid of what Brian might do to her if she didn't? But that was ridiculous. Wasn't it? Brian was her son; the product of her and Sam's love. How could there be anything wrong with him?

So Becky rationalized, made excuses, and ignored the signs. They had been warned, but they had paid no heed. She'd known back in the bunker that there was something very different about Brian, to put it mildly. Just like there was something different about Becky now, too. Maybe it was because she and Brian had cohabited her body together for all those months. Becky felt like she was capable of doing a lot more stuff now, stuff that may not be considered very nice. Dean would probably say that she was "going dark side", but Becky didn't necessarily agree. None of them knew what it was like to be the full-time parent of a little baby. No one. Sam would come over and visit, and he was welcome any time, of course. But then he would leave, and she would be the one who was stuck feeding Brian, changing his poopy diapers, and running to appease him when he got upset. It was just her and Brian against the world; that was how Becky felt a lot of the time. So if she had some bad thoughts from time to time, it was just because she was so tired all the time, and everybody had deserted her.

Becky took one more look around the kitchen, to make sure she hadn't missed any blood spots. Then she rushed to the door to answer it.

"Hello, Little Mother," Vincent said, grinning. "Did you miss me?"

Gail was sitting at the kitchen table with Rob, and they had been talking for a few minutes now. Gail's half-brother had been fairly stoic when she'd said that she wanted to talk to him, but she could see the red around his eyes that suggested he'd been crying. Frank had been there too, and he and Rob had been having a beer together. But Gail had said that she wanted to talk to Rob alone for a few minutes, so Frank had gone down the hall to Angela's room to see if she wanted to read together. Hell, he would even play with the stupid stuffed animals, if that would help. This latest loss had been extremely hard on the little girl. Not that anyone could blame her. Frank had no idea what in the holy hell was going on lately. All he knew was that nobody else in their family had better die, or he was gonna have to do something about it. He just wished he knew what that "something" could possibly be.

Rob was talking to Gail about Eric's mother, and how mystifying it was to him that she had killed her own son. Why? Who DID that? She'd struck Rob as being standoffish, maybe even cold, but that had been it. What could Eric have done that had angered her so much?

At first, Gail had been having trouble focusing on what Rob was saying. She was still reeling from what had just happened at Becky's place.

Vincent moved forward to embrace Becky, and she shrank back. He frowned momentarily, but then the grin returned. But it was a dark grin. "Been spending a lot of time with the Angels?" he taunted her. "Too good to hang out with the likes of me, now?"

"You know that's not it," she snapped at him. "I got fat, and then I got stretch marks. I lost my modelling job. And all I have to show for all of that is a whiny, needy baby. I didn't even get Sam!"

Vincent pushed past her and into the house, his grin widening. "I guess you can add 'became a bitch' to that list, too," he said to her. "Oh, well. As your best friend, and my daughter the Angel Gail, would probably say: 'You reap what you sow'. Where IS the little dickens, anyway? I can't wait to meet him. Is he the spitting image of Sam? Is he a beautiful reflection of your love and affection? Or is he a mewling, puking brat, like they all are?" He turned to Becky. "Come on, Becky, give your old friend a kiss."

Suddenly, Becky felt nauseous. She still had those dreams, the ones where she and Sam were having sex, and it was terrific. He was always a little more aggressive than she'd thought he would be. Sometimes, a lot more. But it was okay, because they were in love. He would push himself into her, hard, and tell her that a little bit of pain was the same thing as pleasure. Sometimes, he would tie her up, and choke her just a little. This was how grownups had sex, he told her. Becky's little romance-novel fantasies were juvenile. Didn't she feel good when Sam did those things to her? She had to admit that she kind of did, Becky had said, and Sam had grinned, just like Vincent was doing now. Then, he would flip her over, and there would be more pain. Then Sam would untie her, and she would glance in the mirror and see that it was Vincent who was doing those things to her, and then she would wake up. Most of the time she would be screaming, but a couple of times lately, she'd had her hand between her legs, and she had been imagining the dirtiest, filthiest stuff. Wow. What was going on with her? Was she that desperate for a little attention?

But she wasn't going to tell Vincent about any of that, of course. She tried to walk past him into the kitchen. "He's napping," she said, frowning. "Finally. Keep your voice down. This is the first peace and quiet I've had all day."

Vincent grabbed Becky's arm and pushed her roughly against the wall. Suddenly, they were in one of her dreams. Or didn't she mean nightmares?

"Let's try that again," Vincent snarled, leaning in close to her face. "'Vincent! I'm so happy to see you!'" he said in an exaggerated falsetto. "Come in! Let me pour you a drink. We can talk, and then I'll show you my adorable little son.' Isn't that what you really meant to say to me, Becky?" His eyes flashed bright red for a second.

Becky gulped. "Yeah. Yes, that's what I meant to say," she said hastily. "Come into the kitchen, and we'll have a drink."

"That's better," Vincent said happily. "Now, where's my kiss?"

Becky puckered her lips, and Vincent gave her a quick, chaste kiss. But then his tongue snaked out, and he licked her nose. Then he released her, looking at her curiously to see what she would do.

Ewwww! Becky thought. Dreams were one thing, but that had been disgusting. But she had better not show it, or he would get mad again. So she led the way to the kitchen as Vincent followed her. He was grinning again. It was high time he paid his son a visit. He'd been curious to see what the kid was like, and even more curious to see if he was developing any powers yet.

"Soooo...eaten any good animals lately?" Vincent asked Becky as she was pouring the drinks. She always kept alcohol in the house, now. Since she didn't have to worry about the empty calories any more, Becky had found that she liked to have a few drinks every now and then. Sam had the occasional drink or two on his visits, too. Becky had been hoping that he might make a move on her if he got a little drunk, but he never had. She'd made a few clumsy advances, but he had never taken the bait.

Her hand joggled now, spilling some of the whiskey. Dammit! This was her last bottle, and she didn't want to waste any. It was such a pain taking Brian to the store. She had to dress him, put him in the baby seat, pack up the diaper bag, then drive to the mall. Then she had to get the stroller out, put him in it, shoulder her purse and the diaper bag, then push him across the parking lot. Then, when they got to whatever store they were going to, Becky would want to look around, but she couldn't take two steps away from Brian without him starting to fuss. And she couldn't take the chance of him getting upset out in public like he sometimes did at home. Who knew what could happen?

"I don't know what you're talking about," Becky said, bringing the drinks to the table.

"No?" Vincent said, smirking. He shrugged. "Okay. Have it your way. Cheers." He lifted his glass, but Becky didn't pick hers up. "What's the matter?" Vincent asked her.

Becky hadn't really wanted to tell him, but she didn't see that she had a choice. "Sam is coming over," she told Vincent. "He called me a few minutes ago, and said he had something to tell me."

"Oh," Gail's father said. Then he shrugged again, taking a drink. "So? So what? I can make myself scarce, if you think he might want to get a little frisky. Or, I could hang around and watch. Maybe I could give him a few pointers. You're not exactly getting your bell rung these days, are you, Becky? You're way too bitchy for that."

"Gail's bringing him," Becky said pointedly. That should do it. She knew that Vincent didn't want to have anything to do with his daughter, or with Angels in general.

But, he surprised her. "Really?" Vincent gulped his drink down. "Well, why didn't you say so? Now, I'll definitely have to stick around. Bring the kid here. I want to see him."

Becky was astonished. Wasn't he going to leave? How was she going to explain his presence here to Sam and Gail? She'd never told them about her relationship with Vincent because...well, just because. Because a large part of her was still self-aware enough to know that she wouldn't be able to explain it. And Sam would take Gail's side over hers. She knew he would. But if Becky asked Vincent to leave, he would probably be more inclined to stay, because that was just the way he was. What did he care? It was Becky who was going to look bad in this situation.

Vincent was amused. Not for the first time, he thought it was a good thing for Becky that she didn't play poker. She should see her face right now. "Ahhhh, I was just messing with you," he said, letting her off the hook. "I'll hang around, but I'll cloak myself. Heaven forbid we should tarnish your lily-white reputation. Never mind that you've been chowing down on fluffy neighbourhood pets, and having S&M porn fantasies. Never mind that if your boyfriend wasn't going to be here, you would rip my daughter a new one with that Angel blade you've got hidden in your room. Let's all bow down to Saint Becky," he sneered. "Bring the kid here. Now."

Becky was dismayed, but she was also getting angry now. Vincent had been a little bit mean before, but he had also helped her with Sam, and he'd been so nice to her when she was pregnant. "Geez," she remarked. "It sounds like YOU'RE the one who became the bitch." Then she clapped a hand over her mouth. Why had she said that? Vincent wasn't going to like it, not one bit.

But then, of course, Vincent threw his head back and laughed heartily, because that was just the kind of guy he was. Just when people thought they had him figured out, he liked to switch it up on them. Sure, what the big-eyed bimbo had said had pissed him off; no one talked to him like that. But he was starting to get a couple of ideas about why Becky was so short-tempered nowadays, and it wasn't because the man of her dreams wasn't giving her what she needed. He stopped laughing. "Bring the kid here," he said once more. "I want to see him."

"I told you, he's sleep-" Becky started to say, but suddenly, Brian began to cry lustily. Great. Now Vincent had woken him up with his insane laughter. Oh, well. She guessed she would have had to wake him up anyway, when Sam and Gail got here. Becky was on edge about a few things now, one of which was the fact that Gail was bringing Sam. Becky hadn't seen her since they'd both been staying in the bunker, and that had suited Becky just fine. She knew that Gail hated her and Brian. Why was she coming here with Sam now? What did Sam have to tell Becky?

She had been lost in thought, thinking about that, and Brian's cries hadn't been answered fast enough. So as Vincent watched with fascination, Becky slapped herself in the face, as hard as she could. "I have to go and get him," she said quickly, and then she turned and ran out of the room. Literally. Ran.

Vincent was enthralled. Now this, he had to find out about. He had been expecting his son to be powerful, but the fear he had seen in Becky's eyes had thrilled the crap out of him. The kid was young; less than a year old. This would definitely have to be checked out.

Becky brought Brian downstairs, putting his bassinet on the kitchen table. "I have to heat up a bottle for him, "she said to Vincent. "Do you want to hold him?"

Vincent looked at the baby. His son looked back at him calmly. He looked pretty much like every other baby Vincent had ever seen. The dark hair and dark eyes were fairly unusual, but still...He made a face. "No. I told you I wanted to see him, not touch him," Vincent said. "I don't really 'do' babies." Just their mothers, Vincent joked to himself. He guessed the kid was OK, but it was what his son might be capable of doing that interested him a lot more than how he looked. "What'd you name him?" he asked Becky.

"Brian," she responded, and Vincent made another face. That wasn't a very good name, he thought. Certainly not fit for a Prince. That was all right, though. They could work on that.

There was a knock on the front door then, and Becky nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked at Vincent pleadingly. "Fine," he sighed. "I'll hide myself." But that was just an act. It wasn't like he cared. What did he want to see Gail for, anyway? But he did want to see more of what Brian could do. Maybe he should prick him with a pin, or something. See what the kid could really do, if he was properly motivated.

Vincent broke the gris-gris bag and vanished, and Becky rushed to answer the door.

She let Sam and Gail in, and Brian began to cry again. "Sorry; he's just hungry," Becky told them. "I was just about to heat up his bottle."

"Here, I'll take him," Sam said, reaching out his arms. Becky deposited the baby into them, and incredibly, Brian gurgled out a laugh.

Sam smiled down at the child he thought was his son, and he bounced the infant gently up and down. Brian had stopped crying altogether as soon as Sam had touched him. Becky rolled her eyes and stalked off toward the kitchen. Sam and Gail followed.

Sam sat down at the kitchen table as Becky moved to get Brian's bottle. "Well, I'll be going now," Gail said, looking down at Sam and the baby. "Give me a call when you want a pick-up. We'd better make it quick, though." Sam nodded in acknowledgement. He'd just come here to tell Becky that they were going, and that there probably wouldn't be any cell phone reception there. If there was any kind of emergency, Becky should call Bobby.

Becky let out a sigh of relief. Good. Gail wasn't staying. As she put the formula in the microwave, Brian's tiny hand touched Gail's, and she looked down at him, startled.

Matthew didn't commit suicide, Gail thought. The Archangel had him killed, because he had suspected. Suspected...what? Gail had no idea.

She continued to stare at Brian. He could bring them all back, the Beast told her now. All she had to do was let him live past the age of ten. If they went through with this stupid mountain climbing excursion, they would live to regret it. Well, some of them would, anyway. The baby gurgled out another laugh. If she left Brian alone, he could reveal the Mysteries of the Ages to her. Wouldn't she like to know everything her husband wasn't telling her?

Gail jerked her hand away. No. No way, no how. She wanted no part of this, especially not right now. They would have to figure out what to do about Brian when they got back, but Cas was right: they could only deal with one major crisis at a time.

"I'm going over to Frank's," she said, then promptly disappeared.

So Gail was sitting at the table in Frank's kitchen with Rob now, and she shook her head slightly to try to clear away the thoughts that Brian had put in there. Well, if she'd had any doubts that he was the Beast of the Apocalypse before, she sure didn't any more. Were they sure that it was Sam who was that kid's father, and not Lucifer? Gail thought dryly. That was the kind of thing Lucifer used to try to pull on them all the time. Dangling poisoned bait in front of them, trying to entice them to take it. Lucifer had magnanimously healed Gail of her injuries when she'd been attacked by that panther, and then he had sent her and Cas on a romantic weekend to Las Vegas, but then he had pulled the rug out from under them by modifying Gail's memory. He'd given her some kind of weird-ass overhaul where she'd thought that she was Sarah, an employee of his at the TV show. She'd had no memories of Cas beyond what she'd thought was a casual fling, and that was the most insidious thing of all. Then, another time, Lucifer had shown Gail, Cas and Crowley what they had thought were their wishes and desires, but everything had been distorted and warped, like images in a funhouse mirror.

The notions that Brian had put in Gail's head back there at Becky's house would be like that, Gail was sure. Of course she wanted their loved ones back. But, what would be the cost? With deals like that, the more desirable the prize, the higher the price was. No, thanks. Gail would take her chances with Cas, Dean and Sam. Cas had said over and over again that God was looking to exact a pound or two of flesh from them if they messed with that Book, but she would still much rather face the consequences at the Almighty's feet than to have the Beast's foot on her throat.

Still, if baby Brian was scared enough to want to make a deal like that, he must know that they had a way to end him. And they did, apparently. From what Gail had been able to glean from the vagueness of Cas's discourse on the subject, this boy "Joe", had recovered Gabriel's blade from the Mississippi River, and had been practicing with it. So the kid apparently knew that his life's mission was to kill the Beast. At least THAT was a good thing, anyway. And they still had time. That was the other good thing. Brian was supposed to die before he was ten years old. Ten. What a weird age. Maybe Beasts aged differently, like calculating dog years, or something. But Gail was glad that Gabriel wasn't going to be required to do it. Hadn't he suffered enough? Of course, Sam was going to suffer plenty, too, when he found out the truth about his son.

Brian had "told" Gail that they shouldn't make the climb of Mount Kilimanjaro, implying that one of them might die, if they did. But maybe he just didn't want them to get their hands on the Book of Life. If they could use it to bring their dead family members back to life, couldn't they also use it to go back and ensure that Brian was never born? Gail would have to ask Cas about that.

But that was a slippery slope, wasn't it? They'd already vowed that they were only going to use the Book to bring back those who had died the most unfairly. Now, she was thinking about erasing Brian's birth. Where did it end? How much was too much? Who got to decide? Brian had warned Gail that they would regret it. They had been warned, but they had paid no heed. How many things could they change, before that Book rose up and bit them? Where was the line? This past year or two, when it had gotten so they couldn't throw a stone in any direction and not hit a family member who was in mourning over someone? Further back than that, when atrocities like 9/11, Jonestown, and the Holocaust had taken place? Or, back to the very Beginning, when a boy named Cain had eaten of a certain fruit tree, despite strict instructions not to? Or, when that same little brat had grown to adulthood, and raised that knife against his brother?

Oh, no. No, no, no. There was no way. But then, Raguel's voice popped into her head, saying that Cas was going to use the Book for his own selfish purposes. Gail didn't necessarily need to know about the Mysteries of the Ages, but she would really, really love to know what Cas wasn't telling her. When it came to that subject, at least, Gail was convinced that Brian was right. Many times, that was Situation Normal for her husband.

And lastly, Gail wondered why Raguel had murdered Matthew. No, that wasn't exactly it. The exact terminology had been "the Archangel" had "HAD him killed". That would seem to suggest that Raguel had gotten someone else to do the deed. And it could only have been Raguel, though it was funny that his name hadn't been used. Raphael was in the Netherworld, and it seemed like that realm was a veritable Fort Knox when it came to holding its denizens. It had taken the combined strengths of Crowley and Metatron to bring Raphael back for just a brief guest appearance at the tribunal, but then, he'd had to go back. Death had released Cas from there a couple of times, but if he'd been inclined to do the same for Raphael, he'd likely have done it by now. Wow; maybe Death should give Crowley copies of the Netherworld's security system. Hell was like Swiss cheese, compared to the Netherworld. Almost all of them had escaped Hell at one time or another. Still, Gail wondered if Crowley had LET Lanister, Xavier and Mark escape, knowing of the enmity between them and Cas, and Gail herself. They would have to have a little chat about that, the next time Gail saw the King.

Brian couldn't have meant Gabriel, either. Their Archangel Brother had been locked up in Area 51 when Matthew had died. And besides, what reason would he have had to kill Matthew?

"Aunt Gail!" Rob exclaimed. Crap. She'd been doing it again.

"I'm sorry," she said to him. "I was doing what your Uncle Cas calls 'woolgathering'. And he ought to know. He was the world's first shepherd."

Had that just been a quip that had slipped out? Gail put her hands on Rob's, which were splayed out on the table. "I'm sorry, Rob. That was insensitive," she said softly.

He frowned, but said, "That's OK; Dad does that all the time. I know that's just how you guys are. I - "

Rob bit off the sentence. He was getting something from Gail, now. It was weird, too, because he'd never been a contact psychic. The visions had always come to his mind all by themselves. Not that there had been many of them, lately. It seemed that Rob's brain had been subconsciously blocking anything that had tried to come through, just on general principles. He'd meant it when he'd told Eric that he really had no desire to see into the future any more. Now he was deeply regretting that, though. If Rob had only been able to foresee his brother's shooting...there was nothing he wouldn't give if he could go back to that house and drag Eric out of there, kicking and screaming if necessary. Nothing.

But as Gail put her hands on his now, attempting to comfort him, he realized that that wasn't true. There were some things you couldn't give. Or, more accurately, that you shouldn't.

"Don't do it, Gail," Rob said, startling her. "Please. It'll make things worse. It always makes things worse."

"It won't. I promise," she assured him. Rob was young; He didn't understand, Gail rationalized to herself. Never mind the sick feeling she had in her stomach. Damn the omens, full speed ahead. Rob would change his mind once he was reunited with his family members. Of course he would. He would be overjoyed. They all would be, once they were together again. "You'll see," Gail told Rob. But now she was crying, and so was he, and that was when Frank came back into the kitchen. Angela's head had been nodding over the book they had been reading, so Frank had tucked his daughter in with Poochie and Ralph on either side of her and kissed her forehead, telling her to get some sleep. Frank would be glad when Angela started school, he said; it would give her a reason to get up in the morning. Now, if Frank could only come up with one, himself. With their family having been decimated like it had been, it was becoming harder and harder to give a crap about anything. Who cared what "branding" the city should use, or what their "mission statement" was? What about feeding the kids? Helping the poor people? Giving the old folks a little dignity and respect, before they had to die? But Frank was starting to get the sinking realization that nobody at City Hall gave a flying frig about any of those things. Oh, they said they did, because that was what they were supposed to say. But the bottom line was that they didn't. All they cared about were their own families and their own bank accounts, and not necessarily even in that order. To them, the homeless guy on the corner was just a nuisance, an obstacle to get past on their way into the fancy coffee shop in the morning. If they saw him at all, that was.

Gail looked at her brother warily, but he said nothing. What was he supposed to say? Did she think he was going to give her a hard time about a little crying? If she only knew how many times Frank had sat here alone, weeping into his coffee mug, she might be surprised.

"I have to go," Gail announced. "Cas just called me on our frequency to tell me that he and Dean are back. I have to go get Sam from Becky's place, and then we need to pack." She sniffled back the tears, then rose from her chair and went over to where Frank was standing. "I hope you're not mad," she said to her brother. "What we're doing is very important." Gail glanced back, at Rob. Whatever it was he thought he knew, she hoped he wouldn't share it with Frank. The whole point of this excursion was to try and bring their loved ones back, but if it didn't work or something went wrong, they didn't want the survivors to feel even worse than they did now. Why get peoples' hopes up? "Bobby and Gabriel will be here, if you need anything," Gail told the men. "They can probably contact us the Angel way, if need be. I doubt that any of the mountain goats will have cell phones." She gave her brother a hug. "I'll see you when we get back. Give Angela a kiss from me and her Uncle Cas when she wakes up."

Frank nodded absently. "Yeah, OK, kiddo." He wondered what was so special about this damn book that they had to climb a mountain to get. He knew Gail liked to read, but this was ridiculous. But he also knew there was a lot more to it than the Angels were telling any of them. What did those two think, that Frank was born yesterday? But, like the Winchesters, Frank was used to the way Cas and Company operated by now, and unfortunately, that corporation included his little sister. Frank guessed that Gail had totally assimilated by now. But he was a little surprised that Dean and Sam were just going with it. Usually, Dean would have raised a lot more of a ruckus, demanding that Cas tell them what the hell was going on.

But even though Frank loved them all and was curious about what was really going on, he had yet another damn funeral to plan. So he hugged and kissed his sister goodbye, and then Frank sat down with Rob to talk about the heartbreaking business at hand.

Something had held Sam back from telling Becky exactly where they were going, and why. Or, perhaps he should phrase that last part another way, because he still didn't really know why, himself. So he'd just told her that they were all going somewhere on a case together, and he would be back in a couple of weeks. Then Becky had let Sam feed and change Brian. Sam had held the baby until he'd fallen asleep again, and then Sam said he had to go home and pack. Gail had picked Sam up, giving Becky a brief nod, and that had been it. Sam was gone. He was going on a "case" with Gail, leaving Becky behind, to feed and diaper and cater to his son.

Becky was fuming as Vincent made himself reappear. Frankly, he was somewhat surprised that Gail hadn't sensed his presence, or at least sensed a malevolence around the house. She had always been very intuitive that way, even after she had joined The Flock and lost her psychic powers. But she obviously had a lot on her mind. Vincent knew that their extended family had suffered more than a few casualties in the past year. But life went on, didn't it? So, she and the mighty Castiel were going out on cases with the Winchester brothers, like ordinary, run-of-the-mill Hunters? That seemed weird to Vincent. But he supposed that Castiel needed something to kill, and it certainly wasn't going to be Vincent.

Gail had had a curious look on her face when Vincent's son had touched her, though, almost like she'd known...something. Well, technically, Brian was her sibling, just as all of Vincent's offspring were. But Vincent was sure she believed, as the others did, that the kid was Sam's. Why had she had such a strange look on her face, then? Had she simply inherited Vincent's distaste for babies, maybe?

Becky had returned Brian to the bassinet on the kitchen table after the infant had fallen asleep, and Vincent looked at him speculatively. Then Becky let out a frustrated breath and sat down beside Vincent at the table.

"So, Sam's off on a little adventure with his girlfriend," Vincent said mockingly. "And here you are, older and fatter, still just trying to get him to notice you."

"If all you're going to do is just sit there and be mean, you can leave, too," Becky said, sulking.

Vincent's eyebrows arched. She was definitely spunkier than before, but: "You disappoint me, Becky," he remarked. "You had Sam's baby, yet he's still going off somewhere with the girl of his dreams. And here you sit, doing nothing."

"What do you want me to do?" she wailed. "What CAN I do?"

"Handle your business!" Vincent exclaimed. "You're whiny and pathetic. No wonder Sam doesn't want to hang out with you."

"Well, maybe if Brian wasn't such a needy, fussing, crying blob all the time, I'd have more energy to fix myself up for when Sam comes over!" she shouted. "Whenever he cries, I have to trip all over myself to get him to stop, so he doesn't hurt me!"

Vincent's eyebrows shot up. Really? Now, this, he needed to see.

And, right on cue, Brian woke up and started caterwauling. Becky reached for him, but Vincent grabbed her hands. "No, don't," he said eagerly. "I want to see."

Was he nuts? Becky thought. But, a small part of her craved the validation now, the confirmation that what Brian had been doing wasn't all in her head. She could never talk to Sam about it, of course.

So she held herself back from picking Brian up, and a minute or so later, there was a resounding crash upstairs. Becky went racing up there to find out what it was that they'd heard, and she called down to Vincent: "It's his crib! It collapsed! I'm going to see if I can fix it. I'll be down in a minute."

Vincent grinned, looking at Brian. "Did you do that?" he asked the baby. "I'm so proud. You have no idea. You and I are gonna rule the world."

Brian had stopped crying now, and he was regarding his father calmly with those dark eyes of his. Vincent hated touching babies, but now, he leaned over impulsively and extended his index finger towards his son. Brian grabbed it with his little fist.

The Prophecies were coming true, one by one. The Angels were one step ahead, but it didn't matter. As long as Vincent and his son were successful, it wouldn't make any difference what they did. Vincent's son was the Beast of the Apocalypse, the Ender of Worlds. There was only one problem: Castiel, Gabriel and Gail knew. They still thought he was Sam's son, but they knew Brian's true identity. They were going to formulate a plan to kill him. And if they did so before Brian reached the age of ten, Vincent would be the ruler of nothing, because the Apocalypse would be off.

Vincent sat there, lost in thought. His son was the Beast. He felt so much pride right now. But did those Angels really think they were going to kill Brian before the party even got started? Yeah, Vincent didn't think so.

When Becky came downstairs shrugging, saying she'd been unable to fix the crib, Vincent was smiling again. "Pour us another drink," he said to her. "Let's talk about a few things."

The four of them had started to scale the mountain starting at the forest floor, and Gail was mopping the sweat from her forehead and neck with a kerchief that Cas had given to her. She sighed, stuffing it into her back pocket. Sam had advised that it would be hot and humid here. Of course it was; it was the jungle. But so far, though unpleasantly warm, the journey really hadn't been too bad. As soon as they'd begun the ascent, the temperature seemed to cool down a few degrees almost immediately. Or maybe it was because the route that Sam had mapped out was on the shady side of the mountain. Gail wasn't sure if that had just been a coincidence or not, but she appreciated the relief.

Other than that, the climb hadn't been too arduous so far. They had all been stealing glances at Dean, wondering if he would have the stamina. He ate junk food, drank more than he should, and binge-watched movies when he and Sam weren't on the road. And even when he and Sam went out on a case, they had short bursts of physical activity, but most of their time was spent driving, or investigating, or waiting for something to happen.

But Dean seemed fine. He must be in better shape than they'd thought he was, Sam thought to himself, impressed. He knew that Dean lifted weights in their gym room at the bunker, but as far as he was aware, that was the only thing Dean did that could even remotely be considered as "working out".

Cas was doing fine, of course. He had been long used to performing a number of physical feats within the confines of his vessel. He was watching the three others closely, to see if any of his companions showed signs of flagging. As always, he was the most concerned about Gail. She had the smallest, weakest frame. That wasn't sexism, it was simple physiology. Now that they were actually here and making the climb, Cas had to admit that he could see the need for the slow ascent, though. Were they to try to make the climb much faster than they were doing, he was sure that one of them would fall ill. Maybe even him. But he was determined to push them all as hard as he could. Perhaps they could whittle it down to six days. Maybe even five. Cas was feeling the urgency, now more than ever.

The first night they set up camp and Cas built a fire, while Sam and Dean set up their tents. Cas had a sleeping bag for himself and Gail, and there was a canvas tent folded up in his backpack for them as well, for when the nights would become colder, the higher up they went.

They sat around the fire while Sam and Dean ate, and then, as the sun started to set, Sam looked at Cas. "So I was doing a little research on eschatology," he said casually, and Cas looked at him sharply.

Gail and Dean exchanged puzzled glances. "What's that?" Gail said.

Cas sighed. "Eschatology is the part of theology that is concerned with the final events of history, or, the ultimate destiny of humanity. Why were you looking at that, Sam?"

"Because the lore says that many eschatologists believe that the current world, or the current age, is cursed, and will be replaced in the future," Sam replied. "This concept is more commonly referred to as 'the end of the world'."

Cas nodded. Sam was smart, all right. "Yes," he agreed. "Or the Day of the Lord, or the Last Judgement."

"The Apocalypse?" Dean interjected. "OK, I've got a question: why are we talking about THAT again?"

Gail's heart sank. Oh, crap. Holy crap. Did Sam know something? He had been at Becky's place, holding the baby. Had Brian conveyed the idea to Sam?

But Sam said, "No particular reason. Just having a theological discussion." He looked at Cas again. "A lot of the same people posit that the Book of Life talks about 'the world to come', also known as Paradise." Sam was fishing now, wanting to see what Cas would say.

His Angel friend barked out a short, bitter laugh. "I'm aware," he said tersely. There was a pause, and then Cas added, "Many of those very same people also state that suffering is God's loving discipline, and that much of that suffering is the result of certain peoples' choices. In other words, Free Will is just an illusion."

Gail's stomach clenched. Was it just a coincidence that they were talking about choices now? Or were they being given another sign that they seemed determined to ignore?

"The prevailing viewpoint is that those who have suffered the most learn how to better comfort others, because they've had the personal experience of suffering, themselves," Cas went on, the tone of bitterness still in his voice.

There was another silence, and then Dean chuffed out a breath. "Well, if that's the case, we should all be Francis of Freakin' Assisi by now," he commented. They all exchanged faint smiles as Dean rose from the log that he and Sam had been using as a bench. Next time, he was gonna bring his sleeping bag out and sit on that, like Cas and Gail were doing. He was pretty sure he already had a splinter or two in his ass. But at least Gail had gotten her double sleeping bag. Dean knew she didn't really love the jungle. She was looking around, nervous about wildlife. Dean was pretty sure she had good reason to be worried, too. He'd seen those nature shows. A lot of jungle animals were nocturnal. Dean himself was trying not to think about something slithering into his tent as soon as he closed his eyes. Then again, he and Sammy were lucky; they had two Angel sentries who would be keeping watch out here all night. Well, if they weren't smooching like bunnies, that was. Dean's heart clenched. That had been such a fun night. Nobody was in the mood to have any fun these days, because they were all so damn depressed. Everybody had been affected by all the deaths, of course, but there was always that one, the one you just couldn't get past. For Dean, that was Eric. Rob and Eric were fraternal twins, so technically, they had been the same age. But Eric had represented Sam, in Dean's mind. Maybe because he had come into their family later on. When Dean had looked at Rob and Eric, hanging out together, drinking beer together and Hunting together, he'd seen himself and Sammy, in their younger days. Full of piss and vinegar, ready to take on the whole world and rid it of monsters. Saving people, Hunting things, Part Deux. That had made Dean feel hopeful for the future, on his better days. But on his not-so-good days, it had only made him feel old, and sore, and discouraged. His and Sammy's best years were pretty much behind them, and the monsters just kept on coming. And so did the bad guys. Quinn's murder had never been solved, and neither had Emma's. Raguel had killed Chuck, and Cas, Gail and Gabriel had handled him, at least. But Patricia was still out there, and so was that douchebag Lanister, who had killed Liz because of an old grudge he'd had from back in the tribunal days. Dean guessed if you were an Angel, there was no time limit for settling an old score. But the guy's son had been torturing the crap out of Dean for Cas's whereabouts at the time, so that Jason could take Cas to that kangaroo court of a tribunal, and Gail had had no choice but to kill him. Dean knew she'd felt bad about it, too. And how did killing Liz bring the guy's son back, anyway? Dean had indulged in revenge killing before, so he understood the concept, and its appeal. But he had learned that the feeling of satisfaction you got from something like that was very fleeting. At the end of the day, as the expression went, the person you were mourning was still gone, weren't they? They could go out there and track Eric's adoptive mother down, and if Dean knew Cas, that item was on his friend's To Do list. But it wouldn't bring Eric back, no matter what. Yeah, Eric's murder had pretty much been the last straw for Dean. He'd invited himself and Sam along on this adventure because they hadn't had anything better to do, but also because Dean had been contemplating easing back on the Hunting a little bit, and passing the torch to the next generation. Well, that wasn't going to happen now, was it?

"I'm going to bed," Dean announced wearily.

Sam rose too, and then a stricken expression crossed his face. He opened his backpack and took out a roll of toilet paper. "So am I, in a minute," he said sheepishly. Then he grabbed a flashlight, heading quickly out of the firelight and into the forest.

The Angels watched as Dean went into his tent, and Sam into the woods. They were quiet for a moment. "I'm so glad we don't have to do any of that stuff," Gail remarked. "There is absolutely no way I would be walking into a pitch-dark forest, alone, to do THAT. I'd rather explode."

Cas smiled briefly. His darling wife. They had been through so much sorrow, especially lately, but here she was, still at his side, not giving up. "I love you so much," he told her. "And, just as importantly, I appreciate your constant support." He took her in his arms. "Are you too warm to cuddle?"

Gail smiled. "I'll never be too warm for that."

While the Angels were canoodling, Vincent and Becky were having a couple of drinks. She had calmed down a little, but Becky was now bemoaning the fact that Brian, although she loved him, was basically just a whining, crying blob right now. An open mouth. A poop machine.

Vincent was extremely amused now. Normally, he would be annoyed by her bellyaching. Nobody had forced Becky to have a baby. But the way the girl was talking about Brian was just too damn funny. It was so politically incorrect, but it was also exactly how Vincent felt about babies. To him, they were merely a means to an end. Now he realized that Becky felt the same way, and Vincent had never felt closer to her.

So he'd given her time to rant, pouring more alcohol into her glass, nodding at all the right places in her soliloquy. Meanwhile, the wheels in his head were turning. Those damned Angels, conspiring to kill his kid. They'd already killed JD, and lately, Vincent had begun to feel that some of his other children were dying off, as well. He had no clue that it was Alice who had been going around, knocking them off. He only knew that some days he'd felt weaker than others. It had to be the Angels.

Well, if they thought they were going to kill Brian, they were dead wrong. No pun intended. It was going to take a lot more than Castiel's blade to murder the Beast of the Apocalypse, no matter how big Cas thought his blade was, Vincent thought with dark humour. And obviously, the Angels knew that, too, or they would have attempted it already. But they had ten whole years to figure out how to do it, and that was what concerned Vincent. Ten years was way too long.

"I even tried out an Aging spell, but it blew up in my face," Becky was lamenting now.

Vincent looked at her sharply. "A what?!" he exclaimed.

Becky looked at him, bleary-eyed from the alcohol. "Don't worry, I didn't try it out on HIM. It's from that book that you and me used. But, it didn't work. I think I messed up on the ingredients or something, but still..."

Vincent was still working on the first part. An Aging spell? Was such a thing even possible? Was Becky actually sitting here telling Vincent that Rowena had an Aging spell in that book of hers? A spell that might have worked, had Bumbling Becky not "messed it up"?

"What happened? Tell me all about it," he insisted.

So Becky described the effect that the potion she had made had had on the Angels, and Vincent laughed uproariously. He laughed so loud and so long that Brian started to fuss, but one look from Vincent was enough to nip that in the bud.

Eventually, Vincent's laughter died down, but he was wiping his eyes with his hands now. Becky. What a moron. On the other hand, he had never had as many laughs in his entire life as when he hung around her. Like his son Crowley, Vincent didn't have much occasion to cut loose. When you were the Alpha, you had to be on top of your business at all times. There were people with knives in their hands everywhere, either literally or figuratively, looking to stick it to you and usurp your position. After he'd found out that Barnabas was planning to impregnate Blaise with a baby, with the goal of making their spawn into the next leader and supplanting his own son, Vincent had had to discipline both of them. It had been a shame to lose Barnabas, because he had been a devoted follower who'd obeyed Vincent's instructions without question. But such treason couldn't go unpunished. Blaise had claimed that it was all Barnabas's idea, and that he had practically raped her. Vincent had been surprised to find out that the pair had actually done the deed behind his back after all, and he was very skeptical about her claims. Blaise was a scheming little tramp, even worse than her mother had been. But in any event, Vincent wasn't going to take the chance. He'd beaten Blaise mercilessly, concentrating on the area below her waist. If she'd had Barnabas's bastard in there before, she certainly didn't now. Vincent had had a couple of the younger members of their group dump her at one of the island hospitals, with a message: Heal up, and keep your mouth shut. Then come back, and all would be forgiven. And Blaise had returned, because sadly, the cult was the only family she had ever known.

But that was before Vincent had known that his son was the Beast. The Beast of the Apocalypse. It was better than he could have ever hoped. If he had known that, they could have had their squalling little brat. Brian would have wiped those traitors off the face of the earth. Brian. The name would still take some getting used to. Vincent would have to come up with something more majestic. Something befitting an older child, say, about nine years, eleven months, and two weeks old. Just to give the God Squad a little bit of a window. Vincent wouldn't want them to accuse him of not playing fair.

"Let me see that spell book," he said to Becky.

Two days later, the quartet were making fairly good progress on their ascent. Or at least, they had been, Cas noted with a frown, until Sam announced that he needed a rest. Again.

"We rested about an hour ago, Sam," Cas protested, as Sam perched on a rock, searching in his backpack for the small bottle of painkillers he'd had the foresight to bring. Knowing that one of the symptoms of altitude sickness was headaches, Sam had prepared. And he was glad he had, now. His head was pounding, and every step he took felt like twenty. He would fall into a deep sleep once the sun went down, sleep for a couple of hours, and then wake up suddenly, bathed in sweat. So he would throw off his sleeping bag and lay there clad only in his shorts, wide awake. Then after a time, he would be cold again. It felt like he had a strain of the flu, or something. He knew that Cas was getting impatient with him, but Sam was doing the best he could.

Dean was looking at his little brother with narrowed eyes. Not his younger brother, but his little brother. Sammy might be fifteen feet tall, but he would always be Dean's little brother when he was sick or hurt, and Dean could see that right now, Sam was both.

"You OK there, Sammy?" Dean asked him, as Sam threw back two pills and chased them with a couple of swigs from his thermos. Cas and Dean had ended up buying insulated thermoses, because the guy in the sporting goods store had said that the water in them would be good for up to two weeks. They would be up and then down way before then, Cas had said. And the higher up they got, the fresher the water would be, because it would be melted snow from the summit.

"Yeah. Fine," Sam responded, trying to smile. "It just feels like the hangover, without the fun."

Cas let out a slow breath. He was trying to be patient, but the longer they took to get there, the hinkier he was starting to feel. He looked up at the snow-capped summit. It looked so close. Why could he not just pop up there and get the Book? He was long used to the way these things worked by now, but sometimes, it rankled the human side of him.

Sam took a couple of deep breaths, and then he made himself get up from the rock and go back to the path. He took a few steps, then coughed twice.

"Sammy..." Dean said, moving toward his brother.

Sam held up his hand. "I'm OK. Water just went down the wrong way." He coughed a couple more times, and then he reeled for a minute. Then he cleared his throat and said, "OK. I'm all right. Let's go."

The three others exchanged worried glances. Sam was most definitely NOT all right. But what could they do about it? He'd insisted that he was well enough to go on, and Cas had insisted that they needed to continue. If Sam got any worse, Dean might have to put his foot down, and... what? Insist they abandon the mission? Cas would freak out if that happened. So would Gail, probably. The Angels' anxiety was coming out of them in waves, like the squiggly lines around cartoon figures. Dean didn't really go in for theological debates, like his brother did. The elder Winchester was more of a realist. You could toss around theories all you wanted, but the bottom line was that Dean only trusted what he could see, smell, touch, taste, or shoot.

No, Dean didn't deal in intuition, yet even he was feeling it now: If they didn't get that Book soon, they were screwed.

They continued to climb.

Vincent was pretty much sold on using the Aging spell on Brian, but for a change, he had held back from impulsive action. This would be a huge step; a game-changer. He'd thought that he would have years to play around with the Angels. He still had a couple of surprises up his sleeve that he'd wanted to spring on Castiel before the Big Reveal. Like a vial of ashes that belonged to one of Cas's oldest and not-so-dearest friends. Vincent had really wanted to pull the trigger on that one, just to see the looks on their faces.

But it looked as if that little gem would have to go on the back burner; at least, for now. Vincent hadn't been able to find the much-vaunted Book of the Dead. He'd thought that he was onto something when he'd gone to the site of the Chase vault, but that whole thing had been a bust. In fact, Vincent was starting to wonder if either one of those stupid Books even existed. Maybe they were only legends. Wouldn't be the first time, would it? Normally, chasing his tail like that would have really pissed Vincent off. But now that he was the proud Papa of the Beast of the Apocalypse, Vincent felt like raising the stakes. In fact, he felt like upending the poker table altogether. What the hell.

Becky had used up all the ingredients she'd had on the botched spell, so Vincent had magnanimously offered to gather the stuff for her. Once he'd studied the spell book, he discovered that not only had she erred with two of the ingredients, but she had missed one altogether. No wonder the spell had gone so wrong. But the missing ingredient wasn't exactly commonplace in Kansas. It was a petal from a black orchid flower. How the hell could Becky have missed that? Vincent thought, rolling his eyes. So he had gone back to the Caribbean to get it, and then he had come back to Becky's a couple of days later.

Now, as Vincent stood at the kitchen table, twirling the petal between his fingers, he hesitated one more time. This was weird. Why was he feeling so hesitant to pull the trigger on this? Aging his son could only be a winning scenario for him. By the time the Angels came back from their little excursion to Wherever, they would be dismayed to find that there was going to be a New World Order. Vincent was going to be the King, and Brian was going to be the Prince To Be Named Later. Vincent giggled. He couldn't wait to see the look on Castiel's face. Vincent's son-in-law may not be God any more, but he still behaved like HE was the Alpha, not Vincent. Well, it was time for the Angel to receive a lesson or two on how things really worked around here.

But still, one more precaution: before Vincent dropped the orchid petal into the bowl, he extended his finger towards Brian again. His son grabbed it, and Vincent saw Castiel emerging from the crater of a snowy mountaintop with a big book in his hands. He held it up triumphantly. "The Book Of Life" was embossed in gold on the cover. The Book of Life?! Castiel had the Book of Life?

Cas looked up, and it was as if he was staring directly into Vincent's eyes. The Angel was smiling coldly. "You're aware that we vanquished Lucifer, I believe," Castiel said.

"Well, good luck doing that to me," Vincent sneered. "I'm a thousand times worse. Prepare for the Apocalypse, Cas. That little book you have in your hands will be useless, once the Beast is unleashed."

"Oh, do you think so?" Cas said calmly. "Not if we use this Book to erase any trace of your existence."

"Go right ahead," Vincent said, grinning. "But if you do that, your darling little Angel wife will be erased, as well."

Cas's lips pursed tightly. Of course. He hadn't actually been intending to do it; he'd just been trying to intimidate Gail's father. So, Vincent knew about the Beast. "Well, then, I suppose we'll have no choice but to prevent Brian's birth," Cas retorted. "After all, you can't have an Apocalypse without a Beast, can you?"

For just a split second, Vincent was afraid. If that book could really...Brian squeezed Vincent's finger, so hard that the man winced in pain. But then, a moment later, Vincent grinned again, both with pride at his son's strength, and at what Brian had shown him.

"Nice try, Cas," Vincent said acidly. He had never hated the Angel more than he did at that moment, because for one moment, Castiel had scared him. No one scared Vincent. No one. He was the one who did the scaring. "You have to descend the mountain with that book first, though, don't you? Oh, and all four of you have to be alive, when you do. Well, I happen to know that one of you probably doesn't have that long. And even if by some miracle you make it, it'll be too late. Ever hear of an Aging spell, Cas?"

Brian gave him one more squeeze, and Vincent saw the book fly out of Cas's hands. Then came the War, and the Fire, and then the Earth was laid to waste. Vincent stood on top of the smoking rubble, looking all around, and he was smiling. Victorious.

Vincent started to laugh. "Hurry home, Cas. Brian and I will be waiting." He removed his finger from the infant, who gurgled out a laugh.

Then Vincent dropped the orchid petal into the bowl, and then he lit the match.

The four of them had reached the summit now, and the cold was bracing. The winds had picked up, and for the last hour or so, Gail had almost felt like they were going to be blown right off the mountain. But then they broke through the cloud cover, and suddenly, the sky was clear and the wind eased up.

"Dean and I will scale the last portion, to the crater," Cas advised Gail and Sam. "It shouldn't take too long. The two of you can have a rest. Do you need anything before we go?" He was looking at Gail, but he was really casting nervous glances Sam's way. The younger Winchester had full-blown altitude sickness now, but Sam was bearing his affliction as stoically as he could, for the sake of the mission.

Sam said nothing, and Gail said, "No, sweetie. You guys go ahead. The sooner we get the Book, the better. Here, give me your thermoses. I'll melt some snow and fill them up for the...climb down." She gulped. She'd almost used the word "descent", but had edited herself at the last minute. That word had a connotation she didn't like.

"All right, my love." Cas and Dean unshouldered their backpacks. Dean took the thermoses out of both and handed them to Gail, after taking a mighty swig from his. "You okay there, Sammy?" Dean asked his brother.

"Yeah. Fine. I'm just gonna sit down for a minute," Sam panted. He'd opened his backpack too, and taken his tent out. It was folded neatly in its plastic wrapping. He laid the plastic down on the snow to prevent his pants from getting wet and lowered himself to sit on it, with a grunt.

Dean eyed his brother dubiously. "Come on, Dean," Cas said, nudging his friend. Cas had taken out the collapsible walking poles. They'd gotten them at the sporting goods store, realizing that the last part of the ascent was going to be slippery, with snow and ice on the incline to the crater.

Yeah. Right. OK. Dean grabbed two of the poles. Gail was right. The sooner they got up there and got the stupid thing, the quicker they could get Sam the hell off the mountain.

Cas gave Gail a brief hug and a kiss. "We'll be back as quickly as we can," he told her, bundling her coat closer around her. "Stay warm."

"I will, Cas. You, too," she replied.

Dean cast one more glance at Sam. "I'm fine, Dean. Go," his younger brother said, waving his hand in a shooing motion.

Cas and Dean dug their poles into the snow and started up the incline. Dean had left his backpack behind, but Cas had put his back on. He would need something to put the Book in, and he would need both hands free for their climb back down from the crater. His and Gail's Angel powers had been rendered useless here. It was probably the ancient protections that a powerful tome such as the Book of Life would have. In any event, they were here now, and very shortly, the Book would be in his possession.

As soon as Cas and Dean were out of sight, Gail rushed over to Sam, kneeling by his side. "Are you OK? Do you need anything?" she fretted.

"I'm fine," he told her automatically, but then he let out a frustrated breath. "I'm lying. I'm not fine, Gail." He was frowning. "My head feels like it's gonna split open, and I feel really, really hot. Feverish."

"Do you want me to get your pills out of your backpack?" she offered. "I'll tell you what: I can roll up the kerchief I've got, and put some snow inside it. That could be sort of like a cold pack. You could put it on your forehead." She reached out and touched his head. Wow. He wasn't kidding. His skin felt extremely hot to the touch. And his eyes were red-rimmed, too. Retinal hemorrhage. Great. How sick WAS he? Even if they practically slid back down the mountain, could Sam hold out until they got him to a hospital?

Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist, and his grip was surprisingly strong, considering how weak he seemed. "Don't. Don't touch me," Sam said in a raspy voice.

Oh, boy. How high was his fever? Did Sam think that he was contagious, or something? She moved her hand, and he let go of her. "I'm going to get your pills," she said uneasily. "Then, I'm going to melt some snow for our thermoses." Although she and Cas didn't need as much water as their human friends did, even they had been drinking it from time to time. The thinner the air got, the more thirsty they had become.

"Don't bother with the pills. They're gone," Sam said. "I took the last one yesterday."

Gail's face fell. Oh. But, hadn't there been..."How many pills did you take, Sam?" she asked him warily.

"I think we both know that doesn't matter," he replied, looking at her evenly. Gail's heart sank into her stomach. No. They would get the Book, they would make the climb back down, they would open the Book, and everything would be fine.

She bustled around, melting snow and filling the thermoses. Then she looked back at Sam, contemplating making the offer again to bring him a cold compress for his forehead. But it looked as if he had dozed off, so she let him be.

Gail stood waiting for a while, and when she got tired of doing that, she looked around for something to sit on. Dammit. Cas had their backpack with him. She hadn't carried one, because Cas had been the one to shoulder their burden. A metaphor for much of their relationship, Gail thought with wry humour. She'd offered to carry a lighter load, but he wouldn't hear of it. Unfortunately, that meant that he had their own plastic-wrapped tent and sleeping bag with him. It was cold enough as it was here, without getting her pants wet, too. Who knew how long they would be up there in that crater, looking for the Book? Hopefully there wasn't some kind of stupid Indiana Jones-type gauntlet for them to run, or something. She'd been so worried about Sam that she hadn't even thought about that. Now she started to worry about Cas and Dean, too.

Gail rooted through Dean's backpack, but she couldn't find anything she could use. His tent was just stuffed in there, not folded, and with no plastic cover. She rolled her eyes. Typical.

She sighed. If she wanted to get off her feet, she supposed she didn't have much choice. So Gail walked over to where Sam sat, his back propped against a tree, still dozing. She crouched beside him. "Can you shift over a bit, Sam?"

He did, keeping his eyes closed, and Gail sat down on the plastic. Then he put his arm around her and she leaned towards him, grateful for the warmth. They stayed there like that for a while, neither of them talking. Then Sam drifted off again and Gail started repeating positive thoughts to herself in her head, over and over again, like a mantra: We'll get the Book, we'll climb down, we'll open it, and Sam will be fine. We'll get the Book, we'll climb down, we'll open it, and Sam will be fine. We'll get-

And then she heard the sounds coming from the rim of the crater. She squinted, craning her neck. Dean and Cas were standing up there, and Cas was holding something in both hands, lifting it up towards the sky. Was that the Book? She strained to see. But it was strange, because Cas was just standing there, with his head tilted slightly to one side, almost like he was listening to a voice inside his head. Was it God who was talking to Cas now? Gail gasped. The blood in her veins ran cold. What had they done?

Sam started awake, making a snorting noise which would have been funny under other circumstances. "What?" he said, as if she had spoken.

For a moment, Gail wasn't sure what to say. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. But then, Cas took the backpack off his shoulders, put the Book inside, and then Dean handed Cas two of the poles he'd been holding and the men began their descent.

Gail let out a relieved breath. "They've got it," she told Sam. "They're coming down, now." She started to smile. They had the Book. Now they could climb down, they would open it, and Sam would be fine. She jumped to her feet excitedly, anticipating the men's arrival.

It had been much easier than Cas had expected it to be. He supposed that fact alone should have raised all kinds of red flags. But they couldn't turn back now. Cas wouldn't. Once he'd held the Book in his hands and felt the power emanating from its pages, he'd known that everything was going to be all right. There had been no traps, no obstacles. It was as if the Book had been sitting there nestled in that alcove just waiting for him. That thought had caused an eerie feeling in Castiel: one of power, love, seduction and sacrifice, all at the same time. And when he'd touched the Book, he had been reminded of the first Bible he had ever held in his hands as a little boy, aeons after the Beginning, the books he'd read aloud to Gail all those nights at the bunker, and another ancient tome, one he had yet to lay his hands on. But, that was absurd: how could one remember a book they had never read?

He and Dean made their way down to where Sam and Gail were. Sam started to rise, but Cas held up his hand. "We'll rest here for a couple of hours, and then start our descent," Cas said, and Sam sat down again, letting out a slow breath. Good. He felt like he could use a bit more sleep, and then he would have the energy to finish what they'd started. And then...what? But Sam couldn't think about that right now. All he could do was put one foot in front of the other, and try to get the hell off this mountain.

Cas had his backpack off his shoulders again. He took the plastic-wrapped tent out, handing it to Gail. "Why don't you have a rest, my darling?" he said to her. The sleeping bag followed. "We can put this on top of the plastic, and I'll bundle you up inside. You must be cold," he added. "What about you?" Gail asked her husband. "I'm fine," Cas insisted. He was looking at the Book again. "I'll sit with you. Would you like to see it?"

Gail put the plastic down, then unzipped the sleeping bag. "Sure, Cas," she responded. Then she looked at Dean. He had plunked himself down on a snowbank and he was rooting through his backpack now. She shook her head slowly. The butt of his pants was going to be soaked through, and then he would complain about it all the way down the mountain.

Cas brought the Book of Life over to where Gail was. She had been holding the sleeping bag open in case he changed his mind, but he smiled faintly and shook his head. So Gail curled up inside the sleeping bag as Cas sat down beside her. He put the Book on his lap and reached out, zipping Gail inside. Then Cas laid the Book gently on her lap. She touched the embossed letters on the front of it with her fingertips. This was it. The fabled Book of Life. It was unbelievable. Just for the heck of it, she tried to open it. But it was sealed shut.

"Nice try," Dean said, chewing on a power bar he'd found at the bottom of his backpack. Yuk. It was like eating an actual tree branch. But he was hungry, and beggars couldn't be choosers. He'd have Cas kill one of those dick-things on the way down. They weren't half bad, once you got used to the gamey taste. "Me and Cas both tried opening it as soon as he pulled it out of that crevice. No go. So I guess Kevin was right; it won't open until we get to the bottom."

Suddenly, Sam unzipped his parka and shrugged it off. "Man, I'm burning up," he moaned. He grabbed the thermos that Gail had placed by his right hand and drank from it, in big gulps. Then he looked at it for a moment, and then he poured the remainder over his head, soaking his hair and his shirt in the process.

"Sammy!" Dean exclaimed. "Geez! If you're hot, rub some snow on your face, or something. You can't walk around all wet like that. You'll freeze to death. Here." He let out a frustrated breath and got up, walking over to where his brother sat. He knelt down beside Sam, rooting around in Sam's backpack.

"Take off your shirt," Dean instructed him. "We'll put a dry one on you, and you can towel-dry your hair with one of your used pairs of shorts." Dean grinned. He knew that Sam was pretty sick, but they had the stupid Book now, they would climb down, they would open it, and Sam would be fine. Dean had a good feeling about this. He glanced at Cas and Gail. Cas was kissing her softly on the cheek, and their hands were intertwined on top of the Book. Yeah, everything was gonna be just fine.

Sam was trying to unbutton his shirt, but he was having a hard time with even that simple act. "Here," Dean said again. He brushed his little brother's hands aside and started to open Sam's shirt for him.

And that was when Dean saw the jagged bite mark, that had taken out a chunk out of Sam's throat.

\- END OF BOOK 41. -


End file.
